


I ♥ NY (It’s My Friends I’m Not Sure Of)

by oddegg



Series: New York, New York [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles Is a Darling, Cock-Blocking, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Silly, Wooing, erik is outnumbered, friends and family are evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddegg/pseuds/oddegg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a <a id="cutid1" name="cutid1"></a><a href="http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/6084.html?thread=7655620#t7655620">1stclass-kink meme promp:</a> Erik is a single, successful man who likes quick sex with no strings attached. Then, he meets college professor Charles and it's love at first sight, at least for him. Charles, who heard of Erik's notorious ways, wants nothing to do with him besides being friends. Cue Erik bending over backwards to steal Charles' heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I've now de-anoned over on the kink meme I thought I may as well post this here.  
> Caveat: I’m not American, have never been to New York and my knowledge of everything else I’ll talk about is minimal at best. Abandon all hope of accuracy, ye who enter here, basically.

“ _It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man, in possession of the honour of gracing both the Forbes 400 and the Post’s most eligible bachelor list in the same year, must be–_ ”

“…About to kill his dear friend if she insists on spouting any more of that overworked cliché in his hearing?”

Emma pouted at him in disappointment over her lunchtime martini and Janos snickered from his seat at the breakfast bar. Erik merely raised an eyebrow at her. He’d known her far too long to be taken in by her sulks and she knew it, so she stopped making puppy eyes and instead just rolled them at him. “Well, you must admit that the rest of the quote does fit you.”

“I’ve done the wife thing once. It didn’t take and I definitely don’t want another.” Erik said. “Besides” he added placidly “I’ve sucked far too much cock since then to be an appealing prospect for any female.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, darling.” Emma rejoined sweetly “I know of at least five women of my acquaintance who’d happily pay to see you put on that sort of show.”

“Cocksucking hardly counts as a show, Emma. Supporting act at best. You need rimming for the full song and dance.”

“You’re so lucky your mother has taken the twins out.” Janos called from the kitchen area, not looking up from where his thumbs were flying over his phone as he texted.

Erik mock-groaned and let his head fall back on the couch. “Yes, yes. I know. I should take more care with joking about sexual matters when my children could be in the vicinity because they pick things up and repeat them and this is why their school teachers keep having ‘quiet words’ with me.”

Janos’ tone was amused. “Oh no, it’s not that. I think they’re probably beyond saving anyway, poor things” he said absently. He finally looked up and added gleefully “No. What I meant was that given the news recently if your mother hears talk about marriage she’ll be all over it like a fat boy on cake!”

Erik’s groan was genuine this time. Edie Lehnsherr was a wonderful person; a small, dark, buzzing hive of energy and, in her the eyes of her son, the loveliest woman alive. She could also take nagging to the level of an Olympic sport if she felt it was for Erik’s own good and ever since he’d started calming down from his brief party period of a few years ago his mother had got it into her head that what he needed was a permanent partner.

She’d also tried the ‘wife’ angle at first and there’d been continual mention of ‘settling down with a nice girl’ until Erik gently told her that although he liked women a lot he was fairly certain he’d used up the majority of his heterosexual impulses on his short marriage to Magda.

Erik had to give his mother credit. She hadn’t even blinked. Just said “Well, a nice boy then.”

He’d tried to argue that he’d already done his duty and provided her with grandchildren but she’d just patted his cheek and said “Oh, _liebling_ … That’s not the point. I just want you to find someone who makes you _happy_.” And Erik had had no answer to that at all. Edie quite often brought him up short with affection like that – he suspected women got taught how to in secret classes somewhere.

*

Erik had come out to his father later that same day – he’d figured why not get both parents out of the way – and had told him over the sprawling model train set his father was slowly building in the study of his parents’ apartment with Erik’s occasional help.

He’d felt oddly nervous as he’d said hesitantly “Papa, I wanted to tell you something...”

His father had said “Yes?” without really paying attention and Erik had plunged on, “Papa… You do know I like men, right?” Jakob Lehnsherr had looked up, blinked and said again, mildly “Yes?”

Doggedly determined to get the full picture across with no misunderstanding Erik had said “I mean that I like **sleeping** with men.” His father had just cocked his head and said “Yes? And?”

Completely shocked, Erik had spluttered “ _What_? …Wait. You **knew**?!” and his father had said cheerfully “Well, I didn’t think you bought those ‘Bodies of Steel’ magazines as a teenager for the exercise tips. Was that all?”

When Erik just nodded, his brain offline, his father said kindly, “ _Gut_. Well, that copper track support next to you needs a 30 degree bend put in it. See to it, there’s a good boy.”

It wasn’t just Erik’s mother who was good at catching him unawares.

*

So Janos was quite right. With the recent legalisation of gay marriage in New York that was back on the cards as far as Edie was concerned.

Erik softly swore at Emma for bringing the topic up where his mother might somehow, psychically, know about it. He had no interest in even getting _together_ with someone, let alone married.

After all, he had his beautiful if at times exhaustingly lively children, he had his parents and his two best friends and his work.

What more could he want in life?

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Az was their manny.

Well, he was their manny _now_. Four years ago when he’d turned up out of the blue he’d just been Janos’ new boyfriend. Tall, muscled and mysterious, and so darkly tan he was nearly red brown. He was also Russian and hardly spoke to Erik and Emma at first, taking the strong and silent stereotype to extremes.

That had made them not a little suspicious of him – all the more so because their trio was only just settling back into its old rhythms again after what Emma referred to as her ‘ten month moment of madness’ and what Erik secretly thought of as her ‘consorting with the enemy’. But Janos obviously adored him and – more importantly – was adored by Az in return, so Erik and Emma held their peace. If only so Janos would stop trying to win them over by earnestly telling them what a demon Az was in the sack.

They’d both agreed that Az must have been in the KGB or something equally sinister though; it would explain his martial arts skills and the way he could just appear silently and with heart-stopping suddenness. Erik also privately suspected that Az found them both very amusing in a not particularly flattering way.

His name wasn’t Az, but his real one was something unpronounceable with lots of guttural Slavic sounds. Erik’s kids loved him, whatever his name was, with the uncomplicated love that three year olds give and they tended to climb on him like he was a jungle gym when he was around. And Az was surprisingly tolerant of them, carting them round and taking them out and looking out for them. It was an absurdly long time before Erik realised that Az had basically been the twins main carer during the day for _weeks_.

“I can pay you for this!” he’d told Az, who had given him an odd look and grunted “You **do** pay me for this.”

“I do?”

Az had ignored him (he did that a lot) and reached down to swing a delighted Pietro up over his shoulder to hang upside down at his back. Erik had turned to his mother, who’d been in the kitchen with them trying to persuade Wanda that no, she really _did_ want to eat the broccoli, peppers and mushrooms in her lunch and not just pick out the pasta shapes from the dish. “I pay him?”

She’d reached over and patted his hand. “Yes dear, I set it up before Thanksgiving.”

Erik had thought for a moment. “But that was _six months ago!_ ” She’d patted his head this time. “Yes dear.”

(It had been embarrassing to be so slow to catch on but Erik felt his distraction was understandable; at the time he’d just taken over as head of the family steel manufacturing company after his father’s health scare AND fought off a hostile takeover from Sebastian fucking Shaw, whose pressure tactics and unscrupulous business practices Erik was certain had been the cause of a good amount of his father’s stress. Another reason to hate the man, over and above what he’d done to Emma. If Jakob Lehnsherr had died from that heart attack, Shaw may as well have been putting a bullet through Edie’s chest as well.)

Anyway, his kids were happy and for the last four years they’d had a manny who was wonderful with them, even if Erik’s realisation of that had been a bit belated.

They were even learning a bit of Russian, which was great! Erik usually tried to ignore the suspicion that the Russian they were learning was something he’d have to punish them for if he understood what they were saying and instead focussed on the fact that they were becoming more cultured.

It was best to look for the positives in situations.

*

A cultural education was something that Erik felt was important for the children, if only to counterbalance his appalling lapses in proper parenting skills when it came to things like discipline. That was why they went to museums and art galleries and the like as often as possible. The Natural History museum was an old favourite, being so close to the apartment building, and they’d had family membership for years.

“WANDA! Come back here and hold Daddy’s hand, sweetheart. I don’t want you doing your usual magic vanishing trick. Pietro!! Stop running indoors!”

His lovely offspring ignored him as they often did and Erik winced as Pietro almost cannoned into one of the exhibit cases. “Pietro!”

“Sorrydad!” A blur of motion was all he caught as his hyper son ran down another aisle. He wondered vaguely if he’d be able to get out of the museum without paying damages this time and then closed his eyes at the sound of a small crash and Wanda’s shrill voice. Somehow he doubted it.

He loved his children very, very much but _god!_ He wished it wasn’t Az’s day off.

There was a girl standing by one of the cabinets, looking at a display of early vertebrates with an expression of intense disinterest on her face – which swiftly morphed into one of extreme _interest_ when she slid her eyes sideways and spotted Erik. He gave her a half smile and she brightened visibly, grinning at him in return.

Then an older woman came up on the other side of her and shot him a poisonous look before clamping onto the girls arm and dragging her away. Erik heard the girl’s hissed whine of _‘But, M-o-om! Don’t you know who that is? He was **smiling** at me!’_ and her mother’s reply of _‘I know **exactly** who that is and he can go flirt with someone else’s daughter…’_

He felt like calling after her _‘Don’t worry, Ma’am, your daughter has two too many tits and one dick too few to fit my usual type! She’s quite safe!’_ but he supposed she wouldn’t find it reassuring. The large part of him that was fuming with righteous anger didn’t particularly care.

God! He hated it when people judged him like that, based on nothing more than flimsy, invalid media exposure that was _years_ old.

Yes, ok, perhaps some years ago he’d been a bit wild and out of control there for a while and maybe he’d acted like he wanted to burn the world down around him, but he’d been in a bad place, god damn it! He’d had the shock of **double** single fatherhood thrust on him when the twins were born and Magda took off, and then there’d been Emma’s abandonment and then there was what happened to Magda in India…

And yes, he’d done some things at the time that he regretted now; like hanging out at places like the Hellfire Club and getting photographed falling out of places like the Hellfire Club hopped on interesting substances and ok, so he’d punched a photographer or two and he’d dated some pretty notorious party boys – often more than one at the same time – and yes there had, on one memorable occasion, been blurry pictures of himself getting a blow job in the backroom of a club splashed all over the internet so that he’s dreading the day the twins are old enough to get around the computer’s parental lock, but he’s a responsible adult now, for fuck’s sake! He’s mature and dependable and…

And wait just one second. Where the fuck were his children?

*

It took him almost two whole frantic circuits of the fossil hall before he spotted them by one of the dioramas and _alright_ , he thought, hands on his waist and leaning over a little winded, _that’s_ why he hadn’t noticed they were there first time round.

Because they were actually standing still and quiet and paying attention to something for once; a rare enough occurrence that for a second Erik seriously considered some sort of pod-person scenario. But no, it looked like they were just fascinated by the young man giving them a lecture and after another glance Erik had to admit he didn’t blame them. Though he supposed his children were less interested in the fact that the man was attractive; slight and slim, with floppy hair and very pretty mouth, and more rapt by the fact he was talking about cavemen killing each other – a talk which apparently involved a lot of arm waving and screaming and realistic bludgeoning and stabbing motions.

Erik straightened up again after he’d got his breath back and said sharply “Wanda! Pietro! What have I _told_ you about wandering off?!”

They both whirled round and Pietro came to grab his hand and tug him forward. “Dad! Dad, did you know that if we were, like, mutants and the next type of human and you weren’t you’d probably try to kill us?” Erik’s son beamed up at him.

“Cavemen killed each other a _lot!_ ” Wanda chipped in “It’s _so cool!_ ”

Erik raised an eyebrow at the young guy who must obviously be a museum helper and was amused to see him blush faintly. He gave Erik a small smile and said sheepishly “That’s not _quite_ how I put it…”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Erik waved a hand “If there’s death or destruction in something then that’s what these two morbid little horrors will latch onto.” Wanda stuck her tongue out at him and Erik grimaced back at her before flashing the guy a smile “I’m Erik, by the way. It’s so nice that the museum hires assistants who can engage with children as well as you do. You must be new; I’ve not seen you here before.”

He let his voice rise in a semi-question at the end, inviting an answer and further talk, and also let his smile ease out into something warmer and friendlier than the usual one he handed out to strangers. In response the blush the kid was working got deeper, and his flushed cheeks only highlighted what really were _incredibly_ blue eyes. His accent was British when he said “Oh, no – I don’t work at the museum. I’m just visiting one of my grad students who has a placement here.” He gave Erik a bright smile “Charles Xavier, I’m a professor at NYU. Sorry, I didn’t intend to start lecturing your children, I think it’s just ingrained habit by now.”

“You’re a _**professor**_?!” Erik honestly didn’t intend to sound as incredulous as he did but, really – the guy barely looked old enough to drink. Charles gave him an amused look and said “Yes. Why, do I not exude the necessary academic air?” he leaned in and mock-whispered “I do own a tweed jacket with elbow patches, if that helps.”

Wow. Pretty, intelligent _and_ funny, plus Erik’s kids seemed impressed by him. A rare combination as far as Erik was concerned. A very cute, oddly sexy combination that he couldn’t help wanting to get to know a bit better.

He was just about to open his mouth and invite Charles to go get a coffee with them when there was a loud cry of “ _There_ you are!” from their right and a girl ran up to them and grabbed Charles’ arm. She was tallish, blonde, dressed like a hipster and – judging by the scowl on her face – annoyed.

“Where the hell have you _been_ , Charles? Hank’s totally having conniptions about his thesis and needs talking down from the ledge – quite possibly literally by now, because it’s taken me so long to find you!” She suddenly noticed that she and Charles had an audience and broke off to say “Oh. Hi! Who’s this, Charles?”

Charles hurried to make the introductions “Oh! This is my sister Raven – Raven, this is Erik and his children Wanda and Pietro.” Charles gave Erik a smile and added “We were just discussing the possible cultural implications of evolutionary takeover. And tweed.”

Raven was giving Erik an assessing look through slightly narrowed eyes. “I’m sure you were… Charles, are you coming? Hank really needs to talk to you.” She pulled at Charles’ sleeve and started to drag him away, adding in a low tone “I think I need a word with you as well…”

Before they could disappear completely Erik quickly said “Oh, Charles – I was wondering if you might want to get a coffee some time?” he grinned “We could expand our discussion on tweed into corduroy.”

Charles looked back hopefully at that but before he could answer Raven slapped a hand over his mouth, threw Erik a bright, fake smile and said “He’ll get back to you on that, ok honey?” and yanked Charles away.

“But, but – he doesn’t have my number…”

It was no use. As Raven pulled her brother round the corner out of sight Erik heard her hiss to him _‘Do you know who that **was**?!’_

Erik watched them go and then lurched abruptly to the right as Wanda grabbed his hand and leaned back with all her weight. She beamed up at him once he straightened his balance and said happily “I **liked** him!”

Yes, Erik thought. So did I.

 

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

That one encounter might have been the end of it if it hadn’t been for Wanda letting the cat out of the bag later that night at dinner.

They were all gathered in Erik’s apartment (Az was still, strictly speaking, on his day off, but there was no way anyone was going to miss dinner when Edie was the one cooking, so he was there along with Janos, Emma and of course Erik’s parents) and when Edie asked her grandchildren what they’d done that day Pietro said happily “We met a really cool guy at the history museum who told us all about cavemen!” and then Wanda added oh-so-helpfully “He was really nice. Daddy thought so too! He asked him to go for coffee.”

Erik suddenly found himself at the centre of attention. His mother’s eyes were bright and even his father looked interested. Emma smirked at him and drawled “Did he really…? _Do_ tell me more, Wanda darling.”

Wanda grinned over at Emma and everyone else started peppering him with questions and Erik manfully resisted the urge to slowly slide down under the table out of the line of fire.

Damn it, not even his Mama’s brisket was worth this kind of third degree.

*

Later, when he’d finally managed to escape to the kitchen to make coffee Emma followed him in.

“ _Please_ , Emma. There really are no more nuances I can pull out of what was only a five minute conversation!”

And there honestly weren’t. Any and all nuance had been extracted, turned over, shaken out and puzzled over by his family and friends in an interrogation that would have done the Spanish Inquisition proud. Erik just wished he’d been sensible enough to expect it.

Emma waved off his protests and leaned against the counter, idly shifting a finger through the sugar crystals in the bowl on the coffee tray. “Oh, I know. Anyway, however much fun it is to see you squirm I’m bored now.” She threw him a shrewd glance “But… you rather liked the guy, didn’t you? During your ‘five minute conversation’.”

Erik was tired and didn’t have it in him to dissimilate. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Emma hummed and was silent for a minute, the coffee maker sputtering quietly in the background. Then she said decisively “Then you should go for it.”

Erik said “Huh?” and Emma rolled her eyes at him. “ _Go_ for it! Track him down – you’ve got enough information. It’s been a while since you were really interested in anyone, Erik. You should give this a chance to see if it goes anywhere. And” she added “If he’s not interested in you back then he’s obviously a total _moron_ who earned his post-grad on his knees underneath the tutor’s desk.”

“You are such a sweet, supportive person, Emma.” Erik deadpanned and Emma smirked and said “I know.”

Part of him was serious, despite the sarcasm. Emma had been his friend for almost all his life: they’d been kids together and had their sulky teenage years together and kept in touch through college and, apart from that year they don’t speak about, they’d been close as family their entire adult lives. He knew who she was under that diamond-hard protective shell of hers and she knew him well enough to know when he needed a push.

He slouched down against the counter next to her and they stood there companionably, shoulders touching, waiting for the coffee to be done.

Erik kind of wished she hadn’t put the idea of Charles on his knees so forcefully into his head though. He swore she had mind control sometimes.

 

* * *

Emma was right. It was easy for Erik to track Charles down the next morning. A quick spot or two of googling and a phone call and he’d confirmed that Charles was indeed a professor at NYU, that he taught both genetics and biological anthropology and that he’d be on campus that day for a noon lecture.

He’d also learned that Charles had a ‘Five Alarm Fire Jalapeño Hot’ standing on RateMyProf.com and that quite a few of his students would like him to lay them down on his desk and _‘talk biological imperative to me, oh yeah!’_

The majority were holding out for _‘riding him hard and putting him away wet’_ though. Erik came very close to leaving a comment agreeing with them. (Or one that said _‘Back off; he’s mine!’_ …)

So he wasn’t that surprised when he slipped into the back of the lecture hall and found it packed with young people, all leaning forward in the very attitude of attention. Erik was sure if he’d had a knife he could have cut the air, it was so thick with hormones, and he privately bet himself twenty dollars that one of Charles’ students had come in with ‘fuck me’ written on their eyelids at least once.

Charles was pacing the length of the podium at the front, waving his hands vigorously and talking about how the most unexpected genetic traits could help to advance the species and that perhaps the next leap in human evolution was just around the corner. His tweed jacket, Erik noted, honestly _did_ have elbow patches on it, but when combined with a white, open collared shirt and dark wash jeans that displayed him in all the right ways he looked anything but fusty and old-fashioned.

He looked so good, in fact, that Erik didn’t pay that much attention to the remainder of the lecture and it came as a surprise when all the students suddenly started packing up and leaving the hall. He waited till Charles had dealt with the last stragglers and their questions-stroke-attempts-to-flirt and made his way down the steps to the front himself, putting on a smile as Charles looked up and noticed him.

“Hello Charles. It’s Erik – from the museum yesterday? I hoped we might be able to get that coffee if you were free.”

The oddest set of expressions chased across Charles’ face in quick succession: bright happiness when he first noticed Erik, which then changed to an almost guilty look, and then – looking nervous and strangely regretful – he said “Erik! Yes, I _do_ remember you.” He gazed resolutely into Erik’s eyes. “I remember you and you seemed a, a very pleasant man. And, and I think you’re probably very magnetic and used to getting your own way but my sister explained who you are and what your reputation’s like and I have to tell you up front that I – I…” he took a deep breath and finished in a rush “I’m deeply sorry but I can’t go out with you if it’s a, a romantic encounter you’re after, especially a momentary one.”

He bit his lip and then added in a miserable small voice “…I’m kind of off the market for those at the moment.”

Erik blinked a few times. Well. He’d never been called a slut and turned down for a one-night stand he hadn’t even been _angling_ for quite so **politely** before. And Charles was looking so wretched that Erik couldn’t even get angry about the assumptions he’d made about Erik’s character. He said gently “And if we just have coffee as friends…?”

Charles’ whole _body_ lit up, blue eyes sparkling and the colour in his cheeks high. “Oh, oh – that would be great! I did like _really like_ talking to you the other day.” He fucking _beamed_ at Erik “I know this great little coffee place just off campus that has board games for the customers. Do you play chess at all?”

Erik looked at Charles’ smile and felt the way his heart was suddenly beating double time in his chest and noticed in a dazed way that he was smiling back at him. Grinning really – that wide grin of his which displayed far too many teeth and made him look like a dork and which he usually only showed to family.

Oh… He was in _so_ much trouble here...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you imagined for one *second* I wasn’t going to make that ‘magnetic personality’ gag you wildly overestimated my self control…


	4. Chapter 4

The coffee shop, Charles told him on the way over, was owned by Charles’ best friend, a woman called Moira MacTaggert.

“She was going to call it The Agency because for about a year there in college she was seriously considering joining the CIA but ultimately she decided she preferred _‘having a life and being able to fuck girls without having to worry what it would do my security clearance’_ ” Charles opened to a nice, old, stone fronted building “So she called it The Academy instead.”

The place was obviously Charles’ regular haunt and subsequently full of his friends and family. Any of whom, Erik realised after oooh, all of thirty seconds acquaintance, would be more than pleased to push him into oncoming traffic if Erik made even a single hair on Charles’ head unhappy.

When Charles’ sister Raven spotted him Erik did think for a moment she was going to make a pre-emptive strike with that traffic thing, even though Charles’ hair was actually looking quite happy.

“What is **he** doing here?! Charles, did we not just _have_ this talk?”

Raven was standing by the bar with her hands on her hips and a deeply annoyed glare pointed Erik’s way. She wasn’t dressed like a hipster today – at least, Erik was pretty sure hipsters didn’t wear all in one black and yellow leather jumpsuits and that amount of blue eyeshadow. Blue lipstick too.

“Now, now, Raven. There’s no need to be so unwelcoming to Charles’ new friend.” A slim, dark haired woman who was presumably Moira leaned over the bar and smiled at Erik as she added “Is there?”

Her smile didn’t actually reach her eyes and Erik thought _‘nearly joined the CIA’_ and then _‘only have her word for it that she **didn’t** join the CIA’_ and then he looked again at that smile, which was just the sort you’d expect on someone trained in killing techniques, gulped and said hastily “No! No reason at all.” He gave her a sickly smile back. “We can _all_ be friends here.”

“Oh good” chimed in the short, Hispanic looking girl at Raven’s elbow “’Cos we _needed_ more friends…”

Given that the girl looked like she wanted to spit at him, Erik was going to take that as sarcasm.

“That’s wonderful!” Charles said happily “It’s lovely that we’re all going to get on.”

Erik looked at him in astonishment but it appeared that Charles was actually _serious_. He met Raven’s eyes and there was the briefest flash of _‘you see?’_ in them and yes, he thought he did.

It seemed he was attracted to the most optimistic, naive man in New York. Erik could see why people would be protective of someone like that.

*

Charles’ friends let him live long enough to order them both coffees and take them over to where Charles was settled into an old style armchair and setting up a chess board. It looked like they were actually going to play a game.

The chess game turned out to be less of a genuine battle and more an excuse to chat though. Charles told him something about his friends – the woman behind the bar _was_ Moira; the Hispanic girl was Angel who was a member of Raven’s _‘Um… **dance** troupe’_ ; the African-American boy who came in ten minutes after they arrived and slipped behind the servers side of the bar was _‘Armando, but everyone calls him Darwin. He’s one of my final year students. I’ll probably be his thesis advisor given that he’s chosen biological evolution as a topic.’_

Darwin shot Erik a pretty cool look after Moira murmured something to him so Erik surmised he was another member of the ‘Protect Professor X’ club.

The two kids who had trailed in after Darwin meandered over to the chess table briefly and were introduced as second year students Alex ( _‘taking one of my classes but I think you’ll end up majoring in physics, won’t you Alex? I’ll lose you to your obsession with lasers’_ ) and Sean.

Sean was a loose-limbed red head and, to Erik’s experienced eye, obviously stoned.

“Sean sings sometimes at the open mic nights Moira holds. He really does have an extraordinary set of lungs on him. He’s studying…” Charles broke off and looked puzzled “Actually, I’m not sure what you’re majoring in, Sean.”

Without missing a beat Alex drawled “He’s majoring in getting high, Charles. You know that.” Then he also gave Erik an evil look before pulling him away to the bar, where he greeted Darwin with a kiss.

Charles also asked Erik about himself. What it was he did, exactly, ( _‘Oh, you modify steel markets. That’s… interesting’_ ) and where his family were from ( _‘German Jews. My grandparents got out of the country just in time before the war’_ ) and what he was interested in (Erik stopped himself from answering _‘You’_ just in time).

Charles also asked ( _‘if Erik didn’t mind’_ ) about the twins and their mother. Was Erik bisexual or…? And so Erik found himself explaining about college and how, bar a few flings, he’d tested it out and pretty much decided he was gay. And then he told Charles about graduation, and about going to the graduating parties and then about waking up one week later in Vegas, in a hot tub filled with beer ( _‘I will say the condition of my hair afterward was **amazing** …’_) with a wedding ring on his finger, one of his wilder female college buddies in the bedroom wearing ditto and not much else, and evidence littered around the suite that they had consummated their marriage extraordinarily thoroughly.

All of which – given that Magda was a gypsyish free spirit and even less interested in being married than he was – would have usually been the cause for a quick lawyer visit and then a wild tale to tell everyone. Except for the fact that along with major chunks of memory they were also missing something else, or at least Magda was; and a week later they were both sitting on the edge of the tub in Erik’s parents’ apartment, staring at the blue line on the end of a white plastic stick and both freaking the fuck out.

“But neither of us wanted to – well, you know. So we went through with the pregnancy and then the day after we brought the twins back from hospital Magda took off. Left a note that basically said she’d had nine months to think about it and she’d decided motherhood wasn’t for her but she’d come back and see us some time probably.”

Erik picked up one of the vanquished rooks and concentrated very hard on rolling it between his fingers and not on what he was saying, because while he hadn’t loved Magda he’d been fond of her and even after seven years this next bit didn’t get any pleasanter to tell. “And then I got word that she’d died in a bus crash backpacking in the Hindu Kush. So it’s just me and the twins now.”

He gave Charles a small smile and added “Hence my abysmal control over them and why they were wandering around the Fossil Hall by themselves when they met you. They have a tendency to gang up on me.” He looked back down at the board to avoid the soft sympathy in Charles’ eyes. “That’s check mate, by the way.”

Charles looked surprised. “So it is.” He met Erik’s eyes and said shyly “I did enjoy meeting your offspring, you know. They seemed bright and lively kids.” Erik laughed because that was certainly _one_ way of putting it. Charles continued “I – I enjoyed today as well. I hope you had a nice time too?”

Erik caught the tiny note of nerves in Charles’ voice and watched the faint flush of colour that was staining his cheeks and it took him less than half a second to decide that if this was the only way he could get close to this man then he’d take it. Weird sister, odd students and scary friends all.

He smiled. “I can’t wait for our next match.”

 

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Erik crashed down into what he’d come to think of as ‘his’ chair with little style and less grace. He let his arms flop down the sides with a groan and said to the world at large.

“I’ve decided my new company motto is going to be ‘Fuck It’. Do you think I should put it on our website?”

On the other side of the low table Alex gave a snort and Erik could hear the amusement in Charles’ voice when he said “Well, that _would_ be an interesting exercise – introducing honesty into the sphere of business.”

Erik flipped him off without opening his eyes and Alex’s reluctant bark of laughter joined Charles’ snicker.

He kept his eyes closed and just let himself relax after the hellish day he’d had, listening with half an ear as Charles went back to the informal tutoring session he’d been in with Alex. ( _“Well, overall it’s an excellent paper, Alex. You make a good, tightly made argument and the conclusions you draw are clearly backed up by your evidence. But perhaps you shouldn’t have your opening sentence as ‘Professor Martindale is a fucking moron and here are the reasons why’…”_ )

Erik had found himself drawn back to The Academy more and more in the past few weeks: orbiting around Charles and his little group like the man had a magnetic field Erik was under the influence of, drawing him in. He’d seen a bit of this impromptu mentoring on Charles part and played a good deal of chess, had a lot of fascinating conversations and in addition had developed a fervent obsession with Charles’ mouth and just how he managed to keep it quite that red. Erik would have suspected gloss except he was witness to how often Charles bit his lips.

He’d also cautiously got to know the rest of the group a little better and reached – well, a _truce_ would mean both sides admitting there was actually a war on, but an unacknowledged armistice, say: tentatively friendly, for certain given values of ‘friendship’. He was, at least, less paranoid that Moira, Raven or one of the others were going to corner him in a dark alley one night and break his kneecaps.

Darwin was the most accepting of Erik and the most adaptive to the presence of an interloper, and he turned out to have a bone dry sense of humour that Erik enjoyed. The others had also relaxed around him to varying degrees and he’d learned a bit more about them.

Like the fact that Raven had an odd, ‘are they, aren’t they?’ relationship with Hank, the grad student Charles was supervising who had been the reason for their original meeting at the museum. Hank was a startlingly nerdy looking guy who wore horn-rim glasses, button downs and khakis in complete contrast to Raven’s hip and creative looks. But past the bookish exterior Hank also had a surprisingly athletic body with big, powerful hands and feet. He also had very sharp looking canines, which he’d bared in warning at Alex the day the boy had looked over at where Raven was perched on Hank’s knee and asked mournfully “How come the geeky bozo gets the hot stripper? It’s not fair.”

Sean had pushed his shoulder and said “You’re _gay_ , you douche! What do you care?” Alex had blithely ignored the fact that Hank was all but growling at him and said very seriously “It just goes against the natural order of things.”

Raven had just patted Hank’s arm reassuringly and flipped Alex the bird. “Fuck you, Alex. And I’m not a stripper! It’s _burlesque_ , moron – a completely different thing.”

Because yes, it turned out that the _‘Um… **dance** troupe’_ Charles mentioned his sister and Angel being in was actually a wildly successful avant-garde fantasy burlesque group. “It’s not that I’m ashamed of what she does” Charles had told him earnestly when that came out “It’s just that I don’t want to think about my _little sister_ being naked on stage, even if she is covered with stick on scales and blue body paint.”

Erik had just shrugged. He didn’t see a problem with Raven showing she was comfortable in her own skin himself. And given that there was at least one strip club in the city with pictures of him during his party days up on their wall of fame, from when he’d drunkenly decided to join in and do a number, he was hardly in a position to judge others. He’d made quite a bit in tips that night from what he remembered.

The fact that Erik so obviously didn’t give a crap about their chosen profession at least seemed to reduce the girls’ hostility to him a bit, and his sister’s lowered hackles appeared to make Charles more comfortable with him as well and almost flirtatious at times but he still, to Erik’s increasing frustration and dismay, would not agree to meet Erik alone anywhere or go on any kind of ‘date’ other than their regular chess one.

And Erik had been asking. But every suggestion that they go for drinks or a meal was met with Charles’ discomfited murmur of “ _Erik_ … You know I don’t date, my friend.”

Always that possessive but distancing phrase, ‘my friend’. And after all, Erik’s growing friendship with Charles was a wonderful thing and their coffee and chess dates were fast becoming the highlights of his week. Maybe keeping things as they were is what he should do.

Erik leaned his head back in his chair and watched Charles through mostly closed eyes; lashes blurring the outline of him and shadowing Charles’ cheekbones and that incredible mouth. Charles’ hands flashed through the air as he made a point to Alex, his eyes shining blue and excited as he leaned forward.

The problem was that Erik didn’t want just _friendship_ from Charles. And something in him twisted painfully at the thought that that’s all he might get.

 

* * *

 

Erik would have said that he was enough of a sorry bastard just lusting after someone who wasn’t interested, but things were worse even than that.

Because when he had fantasies about Charles while he was jacking off (and _of course_ he fantasised about Charles when he was polishing the pole – he wasn’t a fucking saint) what really got him off wasn’t thinking about Charles on his knees in front of him, of those pretty, pretty lips wrapped around him and those blue eyes looking up at him with shy slyness. It wasn’t the thought of himself in front of Charles either, kissing around his shaft teasingly or letting him fuck Erik’s face, hand wrapped desperately in Erik’s hair.

It wasn’t the thought of that incredible fucking ass that Charles had and of sliding into it slow and sure and steady, or of what Charles’ cock would feel like rubbing deep inside him as Erik held Charles down by his wrists and rode him till he was sobbing.

No. What gets Erik off, what tops off every scenario he comes up with and makes him come so hard his gut tightens enough to lift his shoulders off the bed and makes him see stars after, is the thought of them doing all that in **their** bed. The thought of kissing Charles throughout it and getting to kiss him after and then, when they’ve slept the night through wrapped around each other, the thought of waking up in the morning and kissing Charles awake…

And that’s the real problem. That’s when he knows this situation has got out of hand. Because Erik doesn’t want this to just be about _sex_ any more than he only wants friendship from Charles.

Because he’s basically in love with someone who doesn’t love him back and won’t give him a chance.

So. He’s basically screwed.

 

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

It’s possible that Erik had been brooding on the situation and his own position of utter screwed-ness a bit too much. It’s possible that the whole sorry state of affairs had been getting him down a little.

And when, while out with Erik and the kids at the park, Az said cheerfully, pointing at a couple of young people kissing “See? That is how beautiful day like this should make you feel. Look how happy they are!” it’s possible that Erik shouldn’t have spat out “Far too fucking happy, considering they’re probably going to give each other the clap this week.”

Az looked over at where Erik was sitting hunched over and miserable on the other end of the bench and asked tranquilly “So. You are not happy today?”

In answer Erik just glowered at him and curled his lip up. Az said “Ah.” and stared into space for a moment. Then he leaned over and poked Erik’s shoulder “This is about your professor friend, _da_?” he poked Erik again “The one you are too pussy to ask out?”

Erik swatted at Az’s hand. “Fucking _ow!_ Leave off, you Cossack son of a bitch! And” he said with righteous indignation “I _have_ been asking him out, thank you very much!”

Az raised a doubtful eyebrow and Erik sank into gloom again “…He just keeps refusing to go on dates with me.”

“Just you?” Az asked with a frown. Erik knew him well enough to add in the missing words and said shortly “No, he doesn’t date at all”

Az asked “Why?” and that was a simple question but Erik had a feeling the answer was complicated so he just said, vaguely “…I haven’t asked”

In fact Erik had asked. But Charles had gone pale and quiet and hadn’t answered and Moira had glared daggers at him like she was about to leap over the bar and strangle him, so he hadn’t asked again. Not so much out of a healthy fear of Moira, but because the look on Charles’ face made Erik’s throat feel tight and made his fists itch like there was someone out there who needed punched in the head. He wanted to know why Charles wouldn’t date very strongly but he wanted even more to never see that devastated look ever again.

Az waved a hand and said again “Pussy.”

Erik snarled at him “It’s not like I can force him! _Shit!_ ” he swore “You’d think he’d trust me enough to be alone with me by now – I go into that shark cage masquerading as his group of friends all the time!”

“But you don’t let him meet us.”

Erik looked over at Az, puzzled. “What’s that got to do with it?”

Az was looking genuinely earnest for once, and he leaned forward to gesture emphatically. “You do not let him meet any of _your_ friends. Perhaps he thinks you are not serious. That you are embarrassed by him.”

That idea had never occurred to Erik before and he sat stunned, blinking with the shock of it. Az leaned back against the bench again and looked up, deep in thought. Then he said “Picnic.”

“What?”

Az was grinning at him, and flung out a hand to encompass the spread of Central Park before them. “You invite him _and_ his friends to a picnic! Your friends, his friends. Everyone meets and they say hello and your professor, he sees you are not ashamed of him.” Az crossed his arms and said with finality “A picnic.”

Erik managed not to gape open mouthed at Az, but only just. Eventually he asked, weakly “…When did you get to be so socially savvy?”

Az just smirked at him and said “Difference between you and me. You do talking and thinking and I do action.” He waved a hand dismissively “You… _angst_. All manpain in the corner while you drink frothy coffee and eat little things like sushi.” Erik raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to take that from a manny. “And you?”

Az said, serenely “Me, I _act_. And I drink vodka and make other people eat their own teeth.”

Before Erik could come up with a response to that (he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to) Wanda ran over to them whining loudly “ _A-azzz_ … Pietro says I can’t hit!”

Az immediately looked serious and proffered his shoulder. “Let me see.” When Wanda punched him he shook his head sadly and said “Pietro is right. You have no power.” Wanda glared at him, stamped her foot and then pulled back and let out another right hook. Az grinned at her. “ _Da_! That hurt a bit more because you are using your body. That is how you hit.”

Wanda grinned brightly at them both and then ran away again. A few seconds later there was a loud cry of “ _Oww!_ ” from across the grass. Az called out cheerfully “See? You use your body!” and Erik pinched the bridge of his nose. Good god in heaven, he was actually considering taking the advice of a man who encouraged Erik’s children to be physically violent towards each other!

But, on the other hand, it _was_ good advice…

 

* * *

 

Erik got Charles to agree to the picnic partly through polite, logical argument but mostly through the cunning ploy of blatant cheating and making sure to extend the invitation to the whole Academy group en mass, emphasising the ‘free food’ and (more importantly) ‘free booze’ parts. From the way all the students’ eyes lit up at that Charles never stood a chance and Erik felt no guilt at all about bulldozing him into it.

He did, however, feel slightly panicked about the whole thing _now_ because holy crap! He had to provide a picnic for a dozen people tomorrow and it had to be _perfect_ because if it wasn’t then _Charles would never agree to date him and Erik would die heartbroken and alone!_

He may have gotten himself just a _tiny_ bit worked up over the issue.

So that when the apartment door opened and Emma walked in already bitching about the modelling job she’d been at that day and how _‘utterly fucking moronic’_ the other underwear model had been and how Emma _‘never truly understood the phrase ‘waste of skin’ before’_ , she found Erik pacing back and forth in front of the large window in the open living area, looking out at the park below and chewing his fingernails in a nervous way.

Emma threw herself down on the long couch, still with her coat on, and scowled into space. “I hate working with people whose mental capacities are pushed to the limit over a discussion on _shoes_. Heaven forbid you try and talk about anything more intellectually stimulating.” She let her head drop back and sighed. “I went to Berkley, for fuck’s sake. I graduated with honors and now I have to deal with silly bitches that are so empty headed they make me ashamed to be blonde.”

Erik said curtly “Because now you show your thong for a living. Blue stocking to fishnet stockings; what did you expect?”

Emma raised her head slightly and squinted at him. “That’s a very disapproving and patriarchal way of putting it, my pet.” she said coolly “Usually you’re cheering me on. What’s got **your** panties in a bunch?”

It was true that Erik usually had no problem with Emma’s choice of career. He and Janos had both been fully supportive of her when she signed up to be the face of Victoria’s Secret while her WASPish, blue blood family had all but disowned her, shocked to their core. But he was running on nerves, panic and at least eight double espressos downed since mid morning and he wasn’t paying a great deal of attention to what was coming out of his mouth.

He fisted his hands in his hair and told her all about Az’s picnic idea and how he was going to screw it all up and Charles’ family were going to hate him even more and his life would be ruined.

Emma gave him what he always privately thought of as her ‘what the fuck, bitch?’ face. “I’m really not seeing the problem here, Erik. You just said that your little academic crush has agreed to come along. What’s the big deal?”

“Did you _miss_ the part where his family will hate me and my life will be ruined?!”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on! They’re not going to hate you, you overdramatic queen!”

Erik stopped in his pacing and pointed at her. “They already _do_ hate me! That sister of his warned him against me two seconds after I met him!” he slumped against the wall and mourned the injustice of it all “They’re reacting to a reputation that’s years old, for fuck’s sake! And one that was built up by the fucking supermarket tabloids anyway.”

He pushed his lower lip out in a sulk. Emma considered her nails and said in a reasonable way “Well… To be fair to the papers – and I’m not calling you a slutwhore in _any way_ here – but there were a few months in your life there where you almost liked penis more than your kids.”

Erik shot his head up and glared at her. He hissed “How the fuck would **you** know?! You were off sleeping with the enemy and ignoring me at the time!”

Emma bolted upright on the sofa, face going white. Erik immediately knew he’d gone several miles beyond acceptable. Emma’s brief, ten month and extremely unhappy marriage to Sebastian Shaw was something they just didn’t talk about. Ever.

It didn’t help that Erik knew deep inside that he’d had something to do with it. Emma had reacted as badly as him to the twins’ birth in her way. She’d seen them once, she and Erik had had a huge, knock down fight where they screamed at each other about everything except what they really meant, and then Emma had disappeared from his life. The next thing he knew he was reading about her wedding to his business rival in the society pages and storming out to get drunk in clubs whenever Janos or anyone else mentioned her name.

It had taken Emma turning up at his door one night, pale and shaking, wearing tear tracks down her face and looking smaller and more vulnerable than Erik had ever seen her, before that rift was mended. Erik had brought her in and put her to bed; wrapping her up in his arms and murmuring meaningless nothings to her till she finally slept, watched over her through the night gently stroking the side of her face where dark, purple bruises were coming up.

In the morning he’d phoned his lawyer and Emma had started the divorce proceedings.

If he hadn’t already hated Shaw with a passion then his treatment of Emma would have made him Erik’s enemy for life. He had been so happy that the bastard had put a bullet through his forehead when Shaw Corp’s stocks had tanked on the market. If he hadn’t then Erik would have had to hunt the fucker down.

So Erik knew, better than anyone, that bringing Shaw up was the act of a bastard. He slumped down and shot a look of total remorse at Emma, but before he could open his mouth and apologise she was scrabbling in her handbag and then drawing her arm back to fling something at him.

Several small silver squares hit him in the face and he shielded himself with his arms and cried “OW! Emma, what the _fuck?!_ ” as the condom packets bounced off him.

Emma shouted at him furiously “Those are for you! If you’re going to act like a total dick then you may as well dress up like one!”

Erik launched himself off the wall and flew over to the sofa to tackle Emma back down onto it in a hug. He held onto her as she flailed at him and said, over and over “God, I’m sorry Emma! I’m really, really sorry. I’m a total cunt, ignore everything I say, I’m sorry…”

Eventually Emma tired of trying to push him away and collapsed back with a sigh. They stayed like that for a long moment and then she said “Ok. You’re sorry. I accept that. I agree with the part where you’re a cunt but I accept that. Are you going to let me go now?”

Erik muttered a petulant “No!” into her shoulder.

Emma gave another sigh and they were quiet for another few moments. Then she asked “This is to do with you freaking out about your tragic gay love for Mr Professor, isn’t it?” Erik groaned and she rubbed his back and said “Wow. The guy must be hung like a horse for you to be this obsessed by him,”

He muttered into her shoulder “Don’t care what he’s hung like…”

At that Emma finally pushed him backward and struggled upright. She held him at arms length and said incredulously “ _Excuse_ me?! Mr ‘Under six and you’re history’ Lensherr? You’re trying to tell me you don’t care what he’s packing, you fucking size queen?!”

Erik looked down at his hands and said quietly “Actually, I really don’t.”

Emma was staring at him with a look of shock on her face. Shock that slowly morphed into understanding. She said softly “Oh god. You really **are** in love with him, aren’t you? That’s why all this matters so much?” He looked at her helplessly and she added with a small smile “Because **he** matters?”

He swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak. She looked at him silently for a long minute and then nodded with a sudden look of determination. “Fine. Then we’ll make sure this picnic goes off perfectly. I’ll get together with Janos and Az and sort out the food and other things. You just make sure that your professor gets there and everything will be fine.”

Erik had never loved her more than that moment, but he still couldn’t help asking doubtfully “…You really think it’ll go ok?”

Emma sighed in exasperation “Look, it’s easy enough. All you need is wine and food and wine and some entertainment in the form of games and – most importantly – wine.”

“You think you’ve got enough wine there?”

She gave him a hard look. “Alcohol is a social lubricant, Erik. And some situations call for lubricant. Think of this one as the societal equivalent of anal – you’re going to need some slick.” She clapped her hands together in an ‘I mean business’ sort of way. “So the plan is that they all get tipsy, they meet your family and friends, they realise you’re not such a bad guy and they give their blessing to you and Charles and your ambition to make him yours and ream that lilywhite ass till he sweats come.” There was a thoughtful pause. “…They might not put it in quite those terms though.”

Erik didn’t really hear her (though his brain did tuck that image away for later perusal) because he’d just noticed a subtle, gaping flaw in this whole plan.

Charles was going the **meet** Erik’s family and friends. Properly. For an extended period of time.

Oh god. But his family and friends were **insane**!


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

The only sane choice was for Erik to warn Charles off and to try and persuade him to ditch the picnic and run away with him.

He was still attempting to do that as they approached the corner of the park Emma had texted Erik they’d be in. “No, honestly; it’s not that I think my children are satanic, it’s just I’m fairly certain that when I’m not there they and Az sit around thinking of different ways to sacrifice babies.”

Raven and all the students were in a group on up ahead – Moira had needed to work but had let Darwin move his shifts so he could come along – and Erik and Charles were walking a bit behind, probably because Erik was dragging his feet.

Charles had been amused by Erik’s earnest but overblown dissuasion efforts so far but just as they rounded the last turn in the path he burst out suddenly “Why are you so against doing this really? Do you want your family to meet me?” He was rather carefully not looking at Erik.

Erik stopped him with a hand on his arm, astonished “God. No! Charles, it’s not that I don’t want them to meet **you** …”

He was interrupted by a loud yell of “ _DADDYYY!!_ ” Wanda ran over and stood in front of them, hands on her hips and a pissy look on her face. “Daddy, Pietro’s being an annoying dickwad again!”

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and raised his voice. “Pietro! Stop annoying your sister!” He frowned down at Wanda as an afterthought “And Wanda, don’t call your brother a dickwad.”

She sighed long-sufferingly and said “ _Fine!_ But if he carries on doing it I’m going to punch him in the kidneys. Az showed me how.” She finally noticed their company and beamed up at Charles, the gap in her bottom teeth showing. She said “Hi, Mr Charles! It’s nice to see you again!” and then ran back to the group settling down on spread out rugs.

Emma shouted over to him “You better have brought the martini fixings, Lehnsherr! I’ve been supervising your little horrors for half an hour while Jan and Az are off blowing each other in the bushes or something and if I don’t get alcohol soon I may be forced to kill again! Also, the blossom on these trees smells like semen and it’s freaking me out.”

Erik turned to Charles and gestured helplessly, continuing with his original point “…It’s more that I didn’t want to expose you to **them**.” He looked back over at his family and added sadly “Not without you getting immunisation shots first. Or alcohol shots.”

“Seriously, Erik!” Emma shouted “Get the fuck over here with my booze!”

Erik was pretty certain the cough Charles was smothering in his fist was actually laughter. Oddly, he didn’t mind.

*

In actual fact the picnic went quite well. Certainly better than Erik had feared.

Sure, there was that moment when he swore he overheard Az talking to a suspiciously quiet Pietro and Wanda about _‘the fight club’_ or the part where he overheard Janos recommending sex toys to Darwin and Alex, or the part where Raven had taken one look at Emma and said very loudly “Oh god! You’re that underwear model – I recognise you!”

Erik had seen Emma tense up but Raven had just leaned forward eagerly and said “Me and Angel are in a burlesque troupe. I wonder, can you recommend any companies that do fifties style bras?” and Emma had relaxed again.

And then Erik wished she hadn’t when she said musingly “Well… There’s a shop on Lexington that’s good. They sell really nice panties as well.” and Raven had asked with great seriousness “Boyfriend panties or cheating-on-your-boyfriend panties?”

Emma had thought about it and replied “Sluttier than boyfriend but not quite infidelity level.” and Raven and Angel had both said in unison “ _Oooh!_ They DO sound good!”

Charles had looked mortified so at least it wasn’t only Erik who was suffering.

*

Erik very quickly decided _‘fuck it’_ on being embarrassed by his friends though, and just laid back to enjoy the day instead. It was a damn nice day, and good food, good booze and good company (if you ignored most of what they were saying) just improved it. He was feeling at peace with the world. He was feeling _good_.

And, given that he was currently watching Charles run around the grass playing soccer ( _“Football, Erik, **please**.”,_ ) with the others, and that Charles was in a t-shirt which was quite close fitting and which kept riding up on his sides and giving Erik tantalising flashes of belly and the sweet curve of Charles’ back… Yeah. Given that, Erik was also feeling a little distracted. (And maybe a tiny bit horny. Just a bit.)

Erik had demurred from joining in himself, having experienced ‘soccer’ games with his children and Az playing before, but Alex, Sean and Hank had joined in along with Charles and Janos, leaving Darwin, Raven and Angel to cheer – well, mostly to catcall – from the sidelines a little way off from Erik and Emma.

Sean had stripped his pants off fairly early on, revealing skinny white legs and SpongeBob underpants that Janos kept pointing at and cracking up over throughout the game. Raven had wolf whistled and tried to get Hank to take his top off but Alex had pretended to stick his fingers down his throat and said “Ugh! I don’t want to look at all that body hair! Keep the beast leashed, dude.”

Charles, to Erik’s disappointment, hadn’t removed anything but his sweater vest and obviously intended to keep that distracting thin t-shirt on. Surely it wasn’t healthy to exercise with that much clothing on? Maybe Erik should subtly suggest he remove it – purely for his own comfort, of course.

He gave a mild wince as Alex received a flying tackle hug from Az that sent them both crashing to the ground while Pietro zoomed in and grabbed the ball. He immediately took off for the bushes with it laughing hysterically and with all the others chasing him. Erik doubted they’d catch him; Pietro could really move when he wanted, something Erik personally attributed to the training that running away from his sister gave him. Wanda’s habit of hitting him if she caught him was very motivating.

After a couple of minutes he heard a squawk and a wailing cry of “This isn’t soccer!” from the bushes. It sounded like Alex, who was having a harder time that the others adapting to the rules the twins and Az played by. Which were, basically: ‘there are no rules and yes – I can bite you in the shins if I want’. Erik suspected Alex had just been ambushed. He did hope it wasn’t by Az, whose favourite move was to climb a tree, haul you up and then try and drop you on your head.

(Erik had once tried to delicately suggest – via the medium of screaming _‘What are you?! A fucking psycho?!?!’_ – that Az should stop doing this. Az had just looked down on him as he lay bruised on the ground and said with a sad head shake “You would not last long in Russia.”)

After a rather worrying silent pause Erik glanced over at the treeline to see the players trailing out back toward them – everyone still thankfully on their feet and Sean casually dribbling the ball along. It appeared half time had been called.

The remainder of the food and drink got descended on like it was the last sustenance the athletes would ever see and Erik smiled over as Charles threw himself down next to him. “Good game?” he enquired.

Charles looked thoughtful. “…Possibly. I have no idea which side is winning.”

Erik grinned. “That’s a feeling I’m intimately familiar with dealing with my family!”

Charles grinned back at him and Erik may have got lost for a moment there in the sight of the other man – pink cheeked, grass-stained and sweaty; his eyes looking even brighter blue against the ruddy colour of his face and that damn t-shirt riding up on his stomach again – so that when Charles looked down at himself and said with a laugh “God! I’m a mess! I look like I just fucked a football team, not just played a game.” he said absentmindedly without thinking about it “Some guys like that look.”

Emma gave an unladylike snorting guffaw beside him, Charles blushed even redder than he was already and Erik had a sudden, fervent wish for powers that would allow the Earth’s core to reach up and swallow him. And then Pietro ran up to them. Erik had never been as glad of his children’s interrupting skills before.

Pietro waved a hand behind him in the general direction of the blanket Raven, Angel and Wanda were sitting on and asked Emma abruptly “Is make-up just for girls? They’re all talking about it and they won’t let me join in!”

Emma stifled her laughter and said airily “Make-up is for girls and really _fabulous,_ boys, Petie-darling.”

Pietro beamed at her and nodded decisively. Then he ran off again shouting “I can _too_ wear make-up! Em says so!”

Erik looked after him and then said to Emma with a sigh “My kids are going to be so fucked up when they’re adults, aren’t they?” and Emma told him seriously “Fucked up but fabulous, darling. Fucked up but _fabulous_.”

Charles coughed and said delicately “You’ve got an… interesting way with children, Emma.”

Emma leaned over and topped up her martini from the shaker she and Erik had been sharing all afternoon. She said carelessly “I’ve had to learn. I have no natural maternal instinct.” She sipped her drink before adding with a slight smile “If I had young, I’d probably eat them.”

Erik drawled “That’s so true.” He mock-whispered to Charles “The first time she saw the twins? She said _‘A coathanger could have solved this whole problem for you’_ ”

Emma scowled at him. “I did grow to tolerate them! And you didn’t help, you bastard, what with persuading them to call me ‘Auntie Em’ when they were small.” Charles was giggling with his face in the rug by now and Emma leaned over Erik to tell him crossly “You have no idea how long it took me to train them out of that!”

She sat back and squinted over to where Raven and Angel were… Were they teaching Erik’s kids _burlesque_ moves? Emma sighed and admitted “I’ve just never really been _comfortable_ around little kids.” She added thoughtfully “I think it’s their size. I don’t think it’s natural to be that small unless you’re a midget.”

Charles rolled onto his back, hugging his ribs and gasping a little with laughter. Erik looked down at him, grinning helplessly at the sight and then Charles met his eyes and caught his breath and there was one long, thrumming moment when all of Erik’s senses narrowed down into Charles and all he could see was those wide blue eyes and those flushed cheeks and the slight pout his mouth was caught in and he was leaning in ever so slowly and Charles seemed to be pushing up to meet him when –

Janos called out cheerfully from right behind them “Right! Hey everybody – we’re all going back to Erik’s!” Erik snapped his head back in time to see Janos wave his phone at the group “His mama says she’s going to cook latkes for us.”

“Oh my god!” Emma scrambled up onto her feet and gestured impatiently for everyone else to get up and ready “All of you clear up and get going now! You have no _idea_ how good Edie’s latkes are!”

Everyone started slowly – and then more swiftly as Emma barked instructions at them – clearing and packing up. Charles gave Erik one shy under-the-lashes look and then got up to go help Raven.

Erik scrambled up himself and opened his mouth to say – what? He didn’t know, because before he could engage his brain Janos clasped his shoulder and leaned in to hiss through a casual smile “If your _madre_ finds out she could have met this man but you **didn’t** bring him home? You’re life will be a living hell, my friend, I promise you.”

Ah. Janos made a very good point there.

Charles turned toward them and gave them a slightly nervous look and Erik clasped his hands and asked, trying to keep the manic edge out of his tone “So. I hope you’re ready to meet my parents?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rules that Az & the twins play by are the ones I learned at school. I think there may be some poor sod out there who still has my teeth marks in his shin. Ahh… *sighs nostalgically* Happy days...
> 
> Emma's comment about Linden trees' smell was inspired by [this Mitchell and Webb sketch.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6m-8l3V38Ps) Couldn't resist it.


	8. Chapter 8

Charles and the others looked a bit taken aback when they got to Erik’s building, a stone’s throw from the park. Charles gave him an oddly uneasy look when he caught sight of the discrete brass plaque with the legend ‘Lehnsherr Building’ by the door.

Janos was walking beside Charles and was, in Erik’s opinion, compounding the cock-blocking he’d done at the park by being annoyingly chatty.

“Erik’s up in the penthouse suite on the top floor, of course.” he was telling Charles “It’s got a fantastic view. And then his parents have the floor below and Emma’s apartment and mine and Az’s share the floor below that. Family all together, right?” he said to Erik with a grin.

“It’s convenient, that’s all.” Erik insisted and Charles gave him a small smile and said “It’s sweet that you want them all near you.”

Erik scowled. “I’m not sweet.”

Janos gave a cough into his fist that sounded remarkably like _‘bullshit’_ and then asked innocently “And remind me again who’s in the other floors of the building, Erik?”

Erik flushed and mumbled something unintelligible and Janos smiled at him kindly and said to Charles “He lets them as offices to charities. At a vastly reduced rent.”

Annoying, Erik reminded himself. Janos’ chatter was _annoying_ and embarrassing. He darted a look at Charles, who was gazing at him with a soft look in his eyes, and then strode forward to insert the key necessary to call the penthouse elevator down.

He ignored the flush that was working its way across his face and said brightly “Let’s go on up, shall we?”

Charles stood in front of Erik on the way up, rather closer than he needed to be. He smelled of bruised grass and fresh sweat and his hair was curling up a little at the back of his neck and it would only mean bending down a few inches and Erik could place a kiss right there, right on that pale knob of spine at the base of his neck…

Erik bit his lip and tried to think unsexy thoughts. There was no way he was walking into the apartment and giving his mother an eyeful of just how much Charles affected him.

*

Not that Erik’s mother _needed_ the too-much-information sight of her only son with a hard on to tell how much he liked Charles, of course. All she needed was one look at Erik’s face, one glance at Charles and then she was smiling widely and blinking away what looked like tears. She gave Erik a hard hug and whispered “Oh, _liebling_ … He’s lovely!”

Erik swore his mother was psychic at times.

Edie then turned to Charles and swept him up into a tight hug too, making him give a small squawk of surprise. She said very fervently “We are **so** glad to have you into our home! _Borekh habo_!” Charles looked rather wildly at Erik over her shoulder and Erik just shrugged. He didn’t have any more control over his mother than he did his kids.

Edie let Charles go and turned to the rest of the group “ _Brukhim-haboim!_ Come along and eat!”

*

Every single scrap of the latkes and other food his mother had made got eaten, with everyone standing up and milling around the apartment – going back for seconds and thirds while they were there.

The way Edie kept beaming excitedly over Charles she might just as well have been carrying a sign that said ‘I approve of my son’s potential partner’, which caused Erik to squirm inside every time he saw Charles’ embarrassed blushes. But she also seemed to take a shine to Alex and especially to Angel, cooing over how pretty she was and insisting she eat more. Erik’s experience of Angel so far had been of a tough-as-nails cynic with a look in her eye for him harder than her Bronx accent but she softened under Edie’s fussing and Erik blinked when he saw how sweetly the girl could smile. She had even laughed out loud, delighted, at one of Edie’s replies to Wanda.

Erik had been idly listening in to his daughter tell her _Oma_ about her day and then he’d heard her say “…And before we went to the picnic we went shopping with Emma and we saw the naked cowgirl and her boobies!”

Before Erik could interject with any paternal advice like _‘naked cowgirls aren’t really what I want you to see in the city, sweetheart’_ Edie had said, placidly “That’s nice, dear.” And then, when Wanda asked, seriously “Why doesn’t she have a horse, _Oma_? I thought cowboys rode horses.” his mother – good god in heaven, his _mother_ – had said thoughtfully “Well, if she’s the ‘naked’ cowgirl it **would** give a whole new definition to the phrase ‘chapped lips’, dear, I suppose she didn’t want to risk it…”

Charles, next to him, had started giggling hysterically and Angel had given that high, delighted laugh. Erik had almost been too busy being _utterly mortified_ to hear Emma telling Angel in a low tone “…And this is why I adore Erik’s mother so much…”

*

Erik’s father appeared to be getting on well with everyone too. He’d joked with Alex and Darwin over something with Pietro hanging off his shoulders and used the old-world, mellow charm he’d always had on Raven and Angel. Erik had always liked his father’s effortless ease with Erik’s friends but he did wish he hadn’t overheard Raven mutter to Darwin _“God, Erik’s dad’s a bit of a silver fox, isn’t he?”_ He certainly wished he hadn’t heard Darwin give a low, approving hum of agreement.

Then his papa had got involved in a long, deeply technical discussion about wave mechanics with Hank and Janos, which all three of them seemed to enjoy immensely.

Erik couldn’t help smiling a little as he watched them. Hank was waving his hands about enthusiastically and Janos was listening with bright eyes, and Jakob watching them both with a smile of his own. Erik had always been particularly happy his papa got on well with Janos because his friend – well, Janos hadn’t been outright disowned like Emma but _his_ father was very much the traditional Patriarch who expected a macho son who would marry some society beauty and carry on the family business. Instead he got Janos; who was shacked up with a weird Russian manny, currently finishing off his PhD in oceanography and who wanted to study tidal energy once he got his doctorate.

Janos still spoke to his adoring grandmother a lot but he and the rest of his family just exchanged very formally written, stilted greetings cards at important occasions. Erik had seen Janos’ face after reading one once and he’d never been so fiercely **glad** of his own parents: embarrassing and interfering and loving as they were.

Though he changed his mind about that gladness when his papa wandered over to where Erik was standing chatting with Charles by the long window overlooking the park and, blinking absentmindedly, said “Ah, so you’re Erik’s boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Of course, he said that just as Erik had popped the last bit of latkes he had into his mouth so that it was too full (and he was too busy _choking with shock_ ) to him to answer and it fell to Charles, pounding Erik’s back in alarm as he spluttered, to stumble out something about them just being very good friends.

Jakob gave them both a crafty smile and said “Slow courtship, eh? That’s nice to see in this day and age.” He turned to Charles and said very seriously “I wanted the same with Erik’s mother but frankly she had me on my back by the end of the third date.” He looked thoughtful “And it probably would have happened earlier but the first two were chaperoned by her father and both her brothers. Don’t worry” he added “Edie and I don’t interfere with Erik’s love life like that at all, we’re just happy to see him with such a nice young man.”

Erik thought that the funny look Charles had on his face had the same cause as the look on his own – mortification and panic at the possibility of more over-share – and so he said through the hand currently covering his face “Papa… _please_ go away? You can carry on embarrassing me with my friends just – do it where I can’t hear you?”

Jakob slapped his shoulder and gave a cackle of laughter that told Erik he’d known full well what he was doing, the mischievous old sod, and then thankfully he went away to talk to Edie.

Erik leant his head back against the wall and asked Charles with sarcastic brightness “Aren’t you _glad_ you got to meet my parents?”

Charles was watching Erik’s parents where they stood at the other side of the room; the taller Jakob with an arm wrapped round his neat little wife, bending down to kiss the top of her head as she hugged him back. He looked back over at Erik and said sincerely “Yes, I am. They’re really nice.” Then he gave a small cough and said “So… your parents know you’re gay, don’t they?”

Erik said “Yeah, I told them when the kids were small but actually Papa said he already knew.”

Charles asked, rather intently “And they’re both ok with it?”

Erik groaned “Well, if by ‘ok’ you mean my mother kept trying to set me up on dates with ‘nice boys’ and Papa imparting the horrifying knowledge that he would have gone gay for Paul Newman in a flash – and Mama saying she’d have let him if she could have _watched_ – then yes, they’re ok with it.” He frowned at Charles. The other man hadn’t really ever spoken about his family other than Raven. He asked quietly “Why, are your parents not comfortable with your sexuality?”

Charles waved that question away “Oh no, I wasn’t asking because of **my** parents. They’re both dead, actually. Father when I was very young and mother when I was twenty.” Before Erik could stammer an apology Charles gave him a bright, false smile and added “No, I was just curious!”

Yeah, right.

Charles got dragged into an argument Az and Alex were having about which country had the best chance in the next World Cup and Erik stayed by the window watching him thoughtfully.

He’d heard the emphasis Charles had given his reply there. Now he wanted to know whose parents it **was** who were the problem. And why that was a problem with Charles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borekh habo / Brukhim-haboim = Yiddish for welcome (singular, plural)
> 
> Btw, Edie’s ‘chapped lips’ comment is an honest-to-god verbatim quote from my mother on the subject of nudist horse riding. (don’t ask why we were discussing that…)


	9. Chapter 9

Erik didn’t get his curiosity satisfied for another couple of weeks.

There was more mingling between the two groups and the Academy became a favourite place for the twins and Az to meet up with Erik, given that Sean was slowing educating the kids’ music taste with the old-fashioned jukebox Moira had installed and Az had started what looked like becoming an epic, never-ending foosball battle with Alex. Az probably liked that he could often find Janos there too, as he’d struck up quite a friendship with Hank and dropped in to talk incomprehensibly about science with him.

Emma popped in every now and then to meet Erik or say hi to the others, and had developed an odd, borderline antagonistic relationship with Moira that mainly seemed to consist of them snarking and being sarcastic bitches to each other, but they hadn’t shed blood yet so Erik wasn’t going to get in the middle of it.

Even Erik’s Mama had come by once or twice and Moira had joined the rest of Charles’ friends in being utterly charmed by her. Moira was laid back and welcoming to everyone but after meeting her once she made sure to ask about Edie whenever Erik came in.

It was the fact that Moira was usually so collected and poised that meant it was such a shock when she stormed into the Academy one day, very smartly dressed but looking like she was one very small step away from murder, and declared to the world at large “I want to **kill** him! I want to kill the bastard and jump up and down on his _corpse!_ ”

Laid back poise was not the order of the day, it seemed.

Erik was sitting with Emma, Raven and Angel at the time; waiting for Charles to arrive after his last class of the day and trying to ignore the women’s talk, which was mainly about underwear and modelling and body fetishes and possible photo-shoots involving body fetish underwear modelling. Erik half suspected they were doing it to try and make him uncomfortable which, hah! Good luck there. He’d worn stockings and a Basque once when he modelled for an art student friend in college – lingerie held no fears for him.

Moira on the rampage, however, definitely got his ‘run away!’ radar tingling. Especially when she threw herself into the empty space on the sofa next to Emma and said vehemently “ _Fuck!_ I really want a fucking cigarette!”

Emma gave her a concerned look, which Erik found interesting, and opened her mouth to say something but before she could Angel cut in with “Shit girl! You gave up two years ago. What’s got you so worked up?”

Moira curled her lip up like she’d just tasted something foul and said “William fucking Stryker, that’s what.”

The name meant nothing to Erik, though Emma had a thoughtful frown on her face, but it obviously meant something to Raven and Angel. Angel hissed and Raven shot forward in her seat with an angry “ _What?!_ ” She looked fearsome. “What the fuck has he done now? Is Charles ok?”

And now Erik was very, very interested. Moira let out a puff of air and waved Raven’s question away as she said “Don’t worry; it’s nothing to do with Charles. It’s just… I went along to that stupid ‘bridal brunch’ thing for my cousin at the Ritz and as if sitting around making bland small talk with a load of women I’ve never met before wasn’t bad enough fucking _William_ stopped by the table to say hello to one of them and the bastard actually had the _gall_ to smirk at me and ask me ‘how everyone was doing’.” She clenched her fists. “God! It took all I had to tear that smug grin off his fucking face and shove it so far up his ass I could fucking reattach it backwards! How Charles ever found that fucker attractive is a mystery to me.”

Raven snorted and said “Yeah, that guy put the ‘why?’ into Y chromosome bigtime.” and Angel made a vigorous noise of agreement, then all three of them sank into brooding silence. So that when Erik spoke his words dropped into the quiet like rocks into a pool, sending ripples out through them. “So… this is the guy who’s the reason Charles doesn’t date? What did he do?”

All three of the women made ‘oh shit’ faces; like they’d just remembered Erik was there and that this was a topic they weren’t supposed to talk about around him. Before any of them could answer Emma leaned forward and asked “Is this William Stryker Sr’s son we’re talking about? Generally works with his daddy out in Boston?”

Raven said with surprise “Yes! How did you – do you _know_ him?!”

Emma sat back and pursed her lips a little. “Met them both once or twice some years ago at my mother’s parties. Father was a fundamentalist Christian and an asshole with it. Huge homophobe. Junior was so far in the closet he may as well have been in Narnia.” Her eyes met Erik’s as she added musingly “If he and Charles did date I don’t imagine it went down very well with daddy.”

There was a pause while some intense, silent conversation carried out purely by eye contact went on between Moira, Raven and Angel and then Moira sighed and said, wearily “No. No it didn’t.” She gave Erik a tight smile “And Charles hates talking about it so this isn’t going to go down well with him. But I suppose it’s too late to ask you to curb your curiosity…?”

One look at Erik’s face obviously gave her the answer to that so she shook her head and carried on “Yeah, thought not. Charles met William in college, while he was doing his second degree-”

Raven interrupted “And while Charles was still only twenty!”

Moira nodded. “Yes” she met Erik’s gaze “Charles went to college very early. And William wasn’t his first boyfriend but Charles hadn’t had much experience and William was older and superficially charming and…” she trailed off with a sigh and Angel finished off for her in a sour voice “And that fuckwad latched onto Charles and got him all twisted up.” She looked like she wanted to spit “I only met the bastard the once but I could tell right away he was a guy who needed a razor dildo up the ass.”

Moira, who seemed to have calmed down a little from her own ‘kill the infidel with fire!’ mood, ran a hand over her face and said “Angel…”

Raven said fiercely “Oh, don’t even pretend like you don’t agree, Moira!” she turned to Erik and Emma and carried on “Stryker didn’t even want Charles to let anyone know they were seeing each other – it took him a year before he told _me!_ And he wouldn’t let Charles touch him in public and he didn’t introduce Charles as his boyfriend to any of his friends-” Moira muttered “Which wasn’t bad because Stryker’s friends were also huge douchebags…”

Raven nodded. “Yes. Yes, they were, but at least if Charles had spent some time with them he might have found out earlier that Stryker was shoring up his pathetic attempt at pretending he was straight by sleeping with every co-ed on campus who would open her legs for him!”

Emma coughed and said “Um. If what I heard about him from gossip at mother’s parties is correct, he wasn’t just sleeping with the girls.” She looked apologetically over at Moira. “Sorry. But that circle’s usually rather accurate when it comes to people’s sordid sexual secrets.”

“It doesn’t surprise me.” It did, however, make Moira look homicidal again, which was understandable when she added “I always knew he was a complete bastard, especially when he reacted so badly to me and Raven knowing about their affair. When Raven brought Angel over and Stryker found out she knew as well he didn’t speak to Charles for a month – nearly broke it off which would have been the best possible thing for Charles but then the _cunt_ ” she spat the word out, spots of colour coming up on her cheeks “came round again and charmed Charles back into seeing him and he _still_ treated Charles like a dirty little secret for a whole other year and then, _then!_ ”

She broke off and breathed hard, looking like she wanted to hit something or cry. Raven reached out and gripped her hand and she was looking equally upset, so it was Angel who finished off, with a flat look at Erik and Emma “Then Stryker’s dad arrived at his house one day and surprised them kissing and Stryker went fucking postal. Screaming and shouting at Charles about how he was the filthy queer who’d gone and corrupted him and dragged him down and how it made him feel sick that he’d ever let Charles touch him.” She curled her long nailed fingers round into claws “And then he got physical.”

“He **hit** Charles?” It was the first thing he’d said throughout all the revelations and Erik tried to keep his voice calm; tried to sound more like he was a rational human being asking for clarification and not like a berserker about to go on a rampage.

He heard his voice come out soft and level and for a moment he thought he’d managed it, but then he saw the way Raven’s eyes had gone very wide, like a spooked horse and that even Angel and Moira were watching him uneasily. Moira glanced down at Erik’s hands and ah, yes. Perhaps his front of composure might be more believable if he hadn’t got his fingers clamped so tight on the arms of his chair that his nails were leaving marks in the leather.

Emma reached over and gently prised one of his hands off and held it in hers, patting it as she said in a soothing tone “Easy there, tiger. Your psycho’s showing and you’re scaring the kids.”

Erik took a deep breath; let it out slow and tried to calm his mind. He tried to compose himself and be cool and level-headed and – yeah, fuck that. “He **HIT** Charles?!” he yelled, half rising from his seat to do – god, he didn’t know. To do something with this boiling rage he was feeling.

Moira waved him down and said loudly “No! He _pushed_ Charles, yes, but we arrived then and he didn’t get a chance to-”

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” Angel burst out incredulously “That fucker kicked Charles in the back! He had a bruise for _weeks_ and-”

Erik actually growled. Which shut Angel up and got them all looking at him again like he wasn’t safe. He didn’t feel safe at the moment. He dredged up something that could possibly be called a smile but would more accurately be described as bared teeth. “So where does this William Stryker live?”

And weirdly that actually got a semi-amused laugh from Raven. She scoffed at him. “Yeah… nice try, Erik but for some reason my brother _likes_ you and I don’t want to help you get yourself sent away on a murder charge. Besides” she added, giving him a bitter smile “Don’t you think we’d have taken care of that already if we thought we could get away with it without hurting Charles?”

Emma was the one who answered, still keeping hold of Erik’s hand like he was going to go do something stupid if she let go, which he admitted was a possibility. “I’ve no doubt you all would have. And we know how hard it is to let friends make mistakes without rushing in to protect them, don’t we Erik?” she gave him a half smile and yes, he knew what she was talking about. They’d had the ‘I appreciate the knight-in-armour thing but you need to treat me like an adult’ talk after her split with Shaw and he knew she was telling him to dial the cave-man tendencies down, but it was difficult to ignore something so ingrained in his nature.

He tried though, and deliberately relaxed back into his chair. Emma gave him a warm smile and then turned back to the others with a raised eyebrow. “But I do hope _you_ all know that if Mr Stryker did ever happen to have an ‘accident’ we’d help you deal with the body?”

That got a smile out of all of them, even Erik. Trust Emma to lighten the mood with mention of corpse disposal. Moira voice had warm amusement in it when she drawled back “That’s lovely. We’ll remember the kind offer, Emma.”

“What kind offer?”

And oh shit. How had they got so caught up that they hadn’t noticed Charles come up to the table?

*

It was inevitable that Charles was going to find out what they’d been talking about. If the guilty looks that everyone shot each other hadn’t clued him in that something was wrong, then the way Erik bolted to his feet and _fluttered_ at him would have. He knew he was making an ass of himself and ignoring everything Emma had been warning him about his protectiveness but he couldn’t help patting Charles’ arm helplessly, like he needed to know the other man was alright. Like he was trying to mend a hurt he hadn’t been around to prevent.

Charles said “What?” in a weirded out voice and Raven got to her feet and grabbed his arm, leading him away with rolled eyes and a hissed “Good going keeping the cool there, Batman…” at Erik.

Erik sat back down uneasily and winced when he heard Charles’ say loudly from the bar “ _What?_ You _told_ him about-” before their voices dipped back down into an angry buzzing. Moira, Angel and even Emma were all looking at Erik with displeased expressions and he said defensively “It isn’t like I was going to be able to keep it from him anyway!”

Angel muttered something that sounded uncomplimentary but Moira gave him a look he couldn’t interpret and said slowly “No… You probably couldn’t, could you?”

Before Erik could ask her what she meant by that Charles and Raven were back, Raven looking mulish and Charles bright red and looking like he wanted to sink into the floor. He threw himself into the chair next to Erik and said in a higher voice than usual “Right. So if you’ve all finished discussing the unfortunate mistakes I made in my youth can we move onto another bloody topic now?”

Everyone looked uncomfortable and the others would probably have let it go but Erik couldn’t and so he opened his stupid mouth and said “The man was a fucking moron and if I ever meet him I’m punching him in the face.” He met Charles’ eyes and said defiantly “And I’m not apologising for that.”

Before Charles could say anything Angel said “Shit, a punch in the face is nothing. I still think we should have gone with my original plan. If we find out where he keeps his car we still can.”

Muffled sniggers from Raven and Moira indicated that this was an old joke, and Charles’ face lightened a little even though he sounded exasperated when he said “Angel, we are **not** putting a dead body in the trunk of his car and calling the police! I was trying to be the better man at the time, remember?” He added absently “Never mind the issue of where we’d have obtained a dead body in the first place.”

Angel grinned sharply at him. “Hey, there was that guy I dated at the medical school! I let him fuck me in the morgue, he lends me a corpse. It would have been win-win for all concerned.”

Charles looked at her with horror as the others bust into laughter and said faintly “I don’t know what’s worse; the creepy sex or the fact that you actually put thought into where you could get a dead body…”

*

After that the atmosphere got a little lighter, especially after Moira declared firmly that they were all having drinks ( _‘ **Alcohol** , Charles. Not coffee’_) and they got a few rounds in.

It was when Erik was at the bar, paying an amused looking Darwin for the next large tray full of vodka shots, that Charles came up to lean next to him and say with a sigh “I really don’t mind that they told you, you know. It’s just that it’s embarrassing to have someone find out I was ever that young and stupid.”

Erik gave him a sidelong look and said shortly “You weren’t. He was.”

Charles said “What?” and he looked so honestly confused that Erik said more than he meant to when he replied. “He was the stupid one, Charles. Not you. He was a moronic ass for not seeing what a catch you are. Were.”

He added, quietly “If you’d been mine I would have wanted everyone I’d ever met to know about it, not hidden you away like that.”

For the life of him Erik couldn’t interpret what the expression was on Charles’ face at that, and he still hadn’t said anything when Erik turned away to carry the drinks back to their table.


	10. Chapter 10

Erik was convinced that it was the fourth round of drinks that was the problem. It certainly seemed to be that round that had given Emma the idea, and when she had slammed back her drink and leaned forward with shining eyes to say “Listen, I’ve got an idea…” Erik knew he should have run there and then.

But then it was far too late. The women had all decided that what they all really wanted was a girl’s night out at the clubs, with him and Charles along for the ride.

They separated briefly to go home and change – Raven dragging a protesting Charles, who was complaining that he didn’t see why he couldn’t wear the cardigan he was currently sporting down to the club – and then they met up again at a bar nearby the clubs, which was already heaving with people.

So there Erik was, crammed up next to Charles, who was looking absolutely edible in slim-line slacks and a closely tailored shirt, surrounded by women who were liquored up, dressed up and loudly raring to go.

He whispered, only half jokingly “Hold me, Charles. I’m scared.”

Charles, who was watching wide-eyed as Raven and Angel started to do body-shots off a random, more than willing guy in the midst of a baying crowd of his friends, muttered back “My friend, I’m beyond scared. Right now I’m somewhere between bedwetting and a near death experience.” He thrust an overflowing shot glass containing something that looked liver-damaging into Erik’s hand and clinked his own against it. “I don’t think either of us is getting out of this one with any dignity. Bottom’s up.”

Erik looked over to where Emma was leaning over the bar, gesturing at a tequila bottle and making hand gestures. Erik was used enough to her ways to interpret them as meaning ‘yes, the whole bottle and five glasses’.

He shuddered and knocked back his shot. Never mind dignity, they were going to be lucky if they made it out alive.

*

The rest of the night passed in what Erik could only think of as strobe-light flashes of recollection.

Leaving the bar eventually to walk, or rather stagger, to the nearest club. Some frat boy’s cat call to Angel of “Hey, baby! What’s up?” and her derisive reply of “Clearly your cock, mate, but I’m not interested!”. The way all the women had shrieked with laughter at that.

The strangely aggressive comments Emma kept directing toward Moira and the way Moira gave back as good as she got, eyes shining like she was finding it entertaining.

The way Charles got giggly and smiley and physically affectionate as he got drunker, and the way he kept leaning into Erik’s shoulder when he laughed at some outrageous comment one of the girls had just said.

Erik remembered Moira sniggering and waving her hands as she told him about the first time she’d met Charles and how he’d got the wrong impression and tried ( _‘Very gentlemanly, you were so polite, weren’t you Charles?’_ ) to turn her down when he thought she interested in him in a more than friendly way. “Honestly, Charles!” she said, over Raven and Angel’s fits of laughter “We met at the college LGBT mixer and I was wearing a rainbow t-shirt and practically had a buzz-cut! How you could think I was straight is beyond me!”

Raven crowed “Oh, god! He’s _always_ had rubbish gaydar!” and when Charles said crossly “Not always!” she told him pityingly “Charles, at that New Year’s party a couple of years ago you were trying to flirt with a guy who’d just asked _me_ if my carpet matched my drapes.” She leaned in and said in a pretend whisper to Emma, who was snorting with inelegant laughter “I think Charles just thought the guy was really into interior design…”

Charles sighed and said to Erik “Come on, I’m going to the bar away from this humiliation.” As they left Emma wiped her eyes and asked “So what did you tell the guy?” and Erik heard the smirk in Raven’s voice as she answered “I told him he could come chew on my carpet anytime…”

The shrieking started up again at that and Erik made for the bar more quickly. God, but women were scary when they got in groups like this!

*

And the rest of the night was more of the same. More alcohol than Erik had had in one go in quite a while, more insight into the women’s sex lives than he’d ever wanted in his life, more dancing than he’d had time for recently and more of the sight of Charles, loose-limbed and flushed and happy, than was good for Erik’s self control.

Charles, with his slighter frame and smaller body mass, succumbed to extreme drunkenness faster than Erik did and faster than the women too – all of whom seemed to have cast iron livers judging by the amount they were putting away. But Charles got to the clumsy stage of drunk quickly and very soon after that he was staggering.

And there was a moment there; when they’d all been dragged out onto the dance floor by Raven and Erik was swaying with Charles in a dance that was less moving to the beat and more making sure Charles didn’t fall over – there had been a moment when Charles had looked up at him and his head had tipped back like he was open for a kiss, stretching up on his tip-toes like he was reaching for it, like he wanted it. His eyes half-lidded and his lips wet and Erik…

Oh god, Erik wanted to kiss him but he couldn’t, he **couldn’t**. Not like this; not when Charles was wobbling on those stretched up toes, when those bedroom eyes were glassy with drink. Not when Charles might regret it and hate Erik for it in the sober morning light.

So when Charles leant up into him Erik ducked his head round and just hugged him close instead, with Charles’ head pushed into Erik’s neck. Charles gave a kind of _‘mrmph’_ noise that sounded like he didn’t know whether to be miffed or pleased but then he sighed and leaned into Erik and wound his arms round Erik’s waist and just kind of snuggled into him standing up.

And Erik wrapped his arms even tighter round Charles’ shoulders and closed his eyes because this was simultaneously the best and most frustrating, _painful_ thing that could have happened to him. To have Charles in his arms at last but not be able to do anything about it. Something made him look up briefly and he met Moira’s eyes over Charles’ head – and he didn’t know what it was he saw there but he thought perhaps it was sympathy.

He closed his eyes again and put his face down onto Charles head and breathed in against his hair and held them both there, rocking them in a movement that had nothing to do with the beat of the music. And he tried to ignore the fact his heart ached.

*

Not long after, when Erik had had to move away from them, go out into the club, get his balance again, get his _breath_ , Moira found him.

She found him as he was leaning on the railing of the upper level overlooking the dance floor, brooding as he watched Raven, Angel and Emma in a dance with Charles that was mainly them holding Charles up in the middle of their group. She leaned next to him and, after a moment, said in a lightly curious tone “He was going to kiss you back there. Why didn’t you let him? It’s not like you don’t want it.”

Erik, whose mood was a simmering foul one because blue balls plus a blue heart was not a good combination, snapped back at her “He’s drunk enough that he’s having trouble holding onto the **floor** , I’m not going to take advantage of him!”

Moira just looked at him searchingly for a long minute and then suddenly she grinned and slapped Erik hard enough on the back that he nearly got pushed over the balcony. She said “Ok. You pass, Erik. You finally pass.” And before he could recover she raised her arms up and let out a yodelling war cry to the others down below “CARPE TEQUILUM, BITCHES! Next round of shots is on me!’ and danced away through the crowd, leaving Erik gaping after her as he asked, bewildered “What? WHAT? …what did I pass?”

Then he spotted Moira down below as she joined the others and she said something to Raven and Angel as she passed them glasses of something clear and lethal looking – and then all three of them turned to look up at Erik and lifted their shots to him in salute before tossing them back. And then he saw them fall about cackling like the witches in Macbeth and they were petting Charles who was sitting curled up in a booth against an amused looking Emma and Erik thought _oh_ , and he finally got it.

He’d passed.

*

Except there was one last burst of memory from the night; one last thing that Erik remembered when he woke the next morning, moaning and hungover and feeling like it would be a kindness if someone could kill him now, please.

He’d been standing slumped against a wall propping up Charles while the women were flagging down a cab for them and Charles had suddenly had one of those moments of clarity that the very inebriated sometimes got and said with hardly a trace of a slur in his voice “You know, that’s one thing that William did show me.” He gestured expansively to his sister and Moira, who were tangoing around a streetlight as Angel laughed and clapped out a rhythm for them. “Sometimes when you get hurt you hurt other people too. They got hurt as well.” Charles rolled his head round and looked up at Erik and said slowly “I’m not going to hurt them again.”

Then he’d fallen asleep against Erik’s shoulder.

And the memory of that made Erik groan louder than the ice-pike the hangover was currently shoving into his brain. Because he hadn’t passed after all.

Not with the person who counted. Not fully. Not yet.


	11. Chapter 11

After the night out things between Erik and all of Charles’ set shifted.

It wasn’t that they necessarily behaved more kindly toward Erik – Moira still poked fun at him, Raven still tried to embarrass him, the boys were still irritating tools at times and Angel was still a sarcastic bitch a lot – but the feeling behind it had altered.

It struck Erik one day, around the time that Angel and Darwin did a perfectly synchronised twin eye-roll at him for something he’d just said, that the teasing and bitching now felt exactly like the type Emma and Janos and Az showed him, the type with affection behind it. Charles’ friends were… well. It looked like they were Erik’s friends now as well.

Things between him and Charles however, were… peculiar. Not strained exactly; they were still as friendly as ever, he and Charles still met for coffee and chess at the Academy and Erik had even managed to persuade Charles to go see a movie or two with him on his own. Sometimes Charles almost seemed to be flirting with Erik but as soon as he caught himself doing it Charles would get flustered and back off again. One flirt forward, two steps back. And if ever Erik tried to make more intimate advances when they were alone together and he got the chance to without their friends ripping the piss out of him for it then Charles would sometimes respond a little but mostly he’d get quiet and change the subject awkwardly.

Erik honestly didn’t know what he should do and none of the others were much help. Moira had just said _‘He’ll come round’_ , Raven had told him that Charles was _‘Mooning over you like a thirteen year old girl in private’_ and Angel had said _‘Fuck’s sake, just kiss him! He’ll sort his reactions out once you’ve got your tongue down his throat’_ (he’d been sorely tempted to take that particular piece of advice, actually). Erik hadn’t asked the boys for their opinion. He wasn’t that quite that desperate yet.

He did, however, ask somebody. And he knew that a thirty year old asking his mother’s opinion on his love life may be slightly pathetic but he didn’t care; his mama was one of the most ruthlessly practical people he knew on most matters so if anyone was going to give him an honest answer about this he thought it would be her.

Edie listened to all he had to say on the matter and then she leaned forward and patted his hand, a look of sympathy in her eyes. “Erik, I think you need to remember that Charles is still very **young**. No” she held up a hand when he would have interrupted “I know the kid’s got smarts coming out of his behind and he’s a professor and all that but Erik, he’s all that and he’s _not even thirty_.” She looked at Erik intently like she was checking if her point had hit home. “He told me he went away to college for the first time when he was fifteen, Erik. So even with those degrees he’s got I don’t think he spent much time learning what people are really like and I think this, this _putz_ Stryker, he took advantage of someone who was too young to know _that’s not how everyone is_.”

She smiled at him “Now you… Ah, Erik. You’ve experienced a lot in your life – and yes, some of it I wish you hadn’t done because I’m your mother and I don’t need to know there’s pictures of my little boy showing off how G-d made him out there” she raised an eyebrow and Erik blushed “But I didn’t interfere because it’s your life to lead.”

Erik opened his mouth to protest the idea of his mother **not** interfering and then closed it again as he realised that no, she never really had. Nagged at times (ok, a lot) and suggested things rather forcefully sometimes and occasionally went behind his back to do things like formally hire Russian manny’s for him when they’d already been doing the job for weeks, but she’d never actually stopped him from doing any of the things he had over the years, even if that might often have been a good idea.

He stared at her with an odd feeling of disconnectedness and wondered for the first time how much standing back and watching him make his own mistakes had hurt her.

Edie gave him a smile that had a sad edge to it. “You learned what people were like, good and bad. But Charles, he was treated poorly at an age when you take things to heart and what _he_ learned was that people can smile and say they like you even while they’re hurting you. You need to put in work if you want to get over that with him, Erik. And you’ll need to decide if you want to put in the effort to do it right because _liebling_?” she looked serious “Don’t do it if you’re not going to do it right. You’ll hurt him worse.”

“But what’s the right way, Mama?” Erik could hear the plaintive note in his own voice and apparently so could his mother because she sighed and patted his hand again before standing up. “Ah, sweetheart. I’m sorry but that’s another thing you’ve got to decide for yourself.”

She smiled down at him, and this time it was proud. “But you think about it, Erik. I have faith you’ll know the right thing to do.”

He saw her out, because Erik was raised right and even if she lives right below him he’s not going to be rude and let his mother leave without seeing her to the door. And then Erik went back and he sat there on his damn sofa and he thought about it; sitting there in the gathering gloom of the apartment and watching out of the window as the shadows in the park bleed together into night and the city lights lit up all around.

Erik thought about Charles and about how he felt about Charles, and he thought about how amazing and endearing this small biology professor was with all his quirks and how great Charles’ strange little family was and how, despite his best efforts and theirs, Erik had started to be fond of them as well. He thought about how much _Charles_ obviously cared for them all; how much Charles would do anything for them, because he loved them, just as much as Erik loved his family, just as much as Erik loved Charles and –

And all of a sudden Erik knew what he needed to do. He could see that he’d been going about this all wrong when it comes to Charles and that his first instinct, when he’d learned about Charles’ relationship with Stryker, had been the correct one. Not the instinct about wanting to rip William Stryker limb from limb (though he was still holding out for that option) but the one he’d told Charles about afterward at the bar: that he’d have been proud to call Charles his.

Because Erik realised he’d still been acting like Charles’ occasional shyness and self-restraint were the things to worry about and Charles, Erik can now see, had been taking that as an indication that Erik doesn’t truly want him when all Erik had been doing was trying to take care of him and not make big PDA gestures that he thought would make Charles uncomfortable. Erik had been trying to keep his – well, his _courtship_ of Charles private when actually what he needed to do was show and tell Charles _explicitly_ and _in public_ that he loved and cared for him.

That was the answer to this! Erik needed to completely expose himself in front of both of their family and friends!

…and it’s quite possible that he could have phrased that better.

He still needed to consider the details but now at least Erik had the inklings of a plan.

 

* * *

 

For the sake of his sanity and continued mental wellbeing, it was a good thing that Erik managed to put the first phase of his plan into operation the next day.

Of course, given that the first phase of his plan involved gathering the whole gang, _sans_ Charles, together in the back room of the coffee shop and throwing himself on their mercy Erik felt his claim to sanity was rather dubious in any case.

But to give them credit, they all paid him the respect of listening to him silently and seriously as he outlined his plan – before they inevitably starting to rudely rip it to shreds, talking over each other as they suggested additions and alterations and generally acting like this was an amusing college prank they were dealing with and not, you know, Erik’s continued happiness or anything like that.

He began to suspect he’d maybe made a mistake.

For a start, he really didn’t like the fact that they all decided their ‘mission plan’ should be titled The Big Gay Declaration of Love.

Erik had tried to demand that it not be called that but he’d been overruled by a vote of one (him) to everyone else. He’d then asked that in that case could they at _least_ not have that up as the title of the bullet-pointed sheet that had been tacked up on the wall but he’d been overruled on that one as well. To Erik’s chagrin Sean had even added glitter and gold star exclamation points to it.

He said sadly to Emma “I’d be more comfortable with this plan if I didn’t feel like I’m going to end up being everyone’s bitch in it.”

She smiled at him kindly and said “Oh, honey… You're everybody's bitch; you just haven't accepted it yet.” Then she dashed over to the other side of the room to shout at Alex about something.

Erik watched her as she and Alex battled over whatever they were arguing about, helped or hindered by Hank, who was gesturing and pushing his glasses back up his nose next to them. Moira, Janos, Raven and Sean were talking quietly over by the window and Angel, Az and Darwin were muttering conspiratorially in one corner. Erik mentally threw up his hands and started to make notes of his own on a spare pad of paper.

He had a feeling that the next few days were going to feel a little like he was in the middle of an A Team montage, except with less scrapyard scavenging and fewer cigars and (hopefully) a lot more gay sex at the end of it.

 

* * *

 

“Erik, would you _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

Charles had gone along with everything fairly genially so far, but there was a definite edge to his voice now.

Erik grinned at him and hoped that the nerves he felt didn’t show on his face or in his voice as he teased “Oh, come Charles – you’ve stood me kidnapping you from your classroom and dragging you across town and now we’re finally here you lose patience? I’m beginning to think you’ve got no staying power, my friend.”

Charles looked up at the building they were in front of and said mildly. “I hardly think waiting around till my lecture was finished counts as kidnapping, Erik, and I’m not sure what all the mystery is about if all you’re doing is bringing me to the Academy as usual. And” he added with a prim expression and mischievous look in his eyes “I’ll have you know I have plenty of _staying power_.”

He put a drawling emphasis on the last words and Erik stumbled on his next step at the implications in Charles’ tone. He looked behind and saw the instant Charles caught himself in the flirtation but before the atmosphere could get strained Erik laid his hand on the Academy’s door handle and said “Oh, but there’s nothing ‘as usual’ about this evening, Charles. I’ve got a surprise.”

Charles looked from Erik to the small sign tacked up on the door saying ‘Closed for Private Function’ and he raised an eyebrow. “Ok, I’ll bite. What’s the surprise?”

“Telling you would rather defeat the object, wouldn’t it?” said Erik, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that said it would probably be a lot of fun if Charles did really bite. “You’ll see in just a minute but first you’re going to need to trust me.”

Erik hadn’t meant that to be anything more than flippant but it somehow came out more intense than he’d intended. Charles threw him a questioning look and then, before Erik could laugh it off, answered quietly “I do trust you.”

They just looked at each other for a moment, Charles solemn and Erik struggling to keep himself from just saying ‘fuck the plan’ and striding forward to sweep Charles into his arms. Eventually he said, in an attempt at a level voice “Then… can you close your eyes? And keep them closed till I tell you?”

The request got him a look that was a combination of amused, frustrated and puzzled, but Charles did close his eyes at least. Erik gently took his arm to lead him into the building and Charles muttered as they went through the door “This better be good…”

 _God_ , thought Erik, in what was probably closer to a genuine prayer than he’d meant, _please let it be._

*

The Academy was in darkness as they came in and Erik kept them both still for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the tiny amount of ambient light from the emergency exit sign at the back and the soft glow of the juke box. He still couldn’t see that much but he could catch the outlines of people surrounding the edges of the room. All according to plan.

Erik carefully helped Charles down the two steps into the main space, holding one hand over his eyes to ensure he didn’t peek, and then shuffled him into place in the middle. He heard what sounded like Pietro giggling by the bar and Wanda loudly shushing him. Charles obviously heard it too because he cocked his head at the sound and started to say “What..” but Erik gripped both of Charles’ hands in his and said softly “Open your eyes, Charles.”

Erik’s eyes had adjusted enough now that he could see Charles’ face, watch him blink his eyes open and see him register the dark of the room. Charles looked round and Erik saw him notice the figures in the shadows around them. He looked back at Erik and said plaintively “Erik, what on earth is going on?”

For answer Erik raised his voice and asked “Alex?”

He felt the tiny jump Charles gave when the wall in front of them lit up and he spared a glance to the side to check that the display was working as planned and like Alex and Hank had promised.

It was. On the wall behind the small stage area that Moira used for the open mic nights there was a bright, 3-D laser display of a chess board set with pieces. After a second of stillness the chessmen began to move, quickly taking out opposite pieces and moving into position until there on the wall was a staggered, blocky representation of a heart: half white, half black. It was cheesy and slightly silly and, he knew, rather hard to do and Erik hardly saw any of it because all he could see was Charles. Charles’ face as the bewilderment gave way to shock and then cycled back to confusion again as the display ended and the lights came up to show all of their family and friends gathered around the edges of the open space Erik and Charles stood in.

Erik’s father was there with Raven’s arm linked through his on one side and Hank stood on the other. Moira was by the bar next to Emma and Edie stood next to Angel and Alex, beaming over at Erik and Charles. Darwin, Sean, Janos and Az were in a group with Darwin and Az holding back Erik’s excited looking children. There were decorations around the room as well, some weird, minimalist looking things that Raven and Angel had made and less artistic, exuberant ones that screamed ‘Wanda and Pietro’. Charles turned to him and asked again “Erik?”

And Erik gathered all the courage he had, clasped Charles’ hands together in his and said, low and earnest but in a voice that carried out around them “Charles. I know how important your family is to you. And I know that they need to be happy with this in order for you to be happy. So I got them to help me prepare for this evening – and they were glad to, Charles, honestly they were.”

Erik heard a muttered _‘..worked like a bastard on that display..’_ from Alex and he saw faint understanding start to dawn in Charles’ eyes and a small smile start to form on his lips. And looking down at him Erik found that all of the carefully prepared speech that Emma, Moira and Raven had drummed into him – the one with all the literary allusions that Raven had given him pointers on dramatic diction for – all of that trickled out of his mind like beads of mercury and Erik just said, simply “Please, Charles. I love you. I love you and I want so much for you to be happy, to be happy with _me_.”

The smile dropped off Charles’ mouth and those bright eyes went very wide but there was something dazzling and expectant shining in them that made a feeling of hope twist in Erik’s chest. He lifted a shaky hand to Charles’ cheek and said in a rush “Oh god, Charles, if you just want to be friends then I’ll do that, I’ll be that for you but please, please give me a chance at being more to you. Please give me a chance at loving you.”

Charles lifted his own hand to gently circle Erik’s wrist and said softly “Oh, Erik…” and for one agonizing moment Erik wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but then Raven said impatiently from the sidelines “For god’s sake, Charles, stop being a prat and kiss him!” and Charles laughed, high and joyful and said to Erik through a smile “Well, who am I do disappoint our audience?”

“Especially” he added in a murmur “when I completely agree with them…” and then he moved his hand to cup the back of Erik’s neck and pulled him down into the softest, sweetest, most loving kiss Erik had ever received in his life.

There was a whooping from the crowd around them and there was a catcall that sounded like Janos and a _‘God, **finally!** ’_ that could have been Emma or Moira and a delighted _‘Yay, daddy!’_ from the twins and his lips buzzed as Charles started laughing against them. And Erik didn’t pay attention to any of it, just wrapped his arms around Charles and held on and kissed him again, over and over with all the intensity he could, while their family cheered them on.

*

Afterwards – after Raven had laughingly threatened to throw a bucket of water over them if they didn’t separate, after everyone had surged forward to hug them and clap them on the back and add their voice to the confused mix of congratulations, after Emma had muttered _‘Well done, you lucky bastard’_ in Erik’s ear and he’d watched Moira whisper something that was possibly similar in Charles’, after he’d picked up Wanda to let her hug his neck and seen Pietro lean against Charles and say shyly “Thank you for making daddy happy.” and watched Charles get suspiciously bright-eyed as he cleared his throat and answered “You’re welcome. And you’re daddy’s made me very happy too.” – after all that Erik and Charles had danced.

That had been one more part of the plan – the plan which Erik had soundly abandoned in order to go rogue with his declaration but which everyone else seemed to be happily carrying on with – and it had been a part that Erik had been uncertain about, but he had to admit that Sean’s karaoke serenade was actually quite impressive. The boy usually had a hoarse, smoker’s voice but when he leapt onto the stage and started working his way through the playlist of torch songs he’d decided on it turned out Sean had a smooth, soaring, resonant baritone when he was singing.

Charles chuckled at Erik’s disbelieving expression and said “Sean **is** at Juilliard on a singing programme, you know.” Sean grinned at them over the mic and segued from ‘The Look of Love’ to ‘Anyone Can See I Love You’ and Charles grinned too and leaned into Erik. “Isn’t it more traditional to do the serenading yourself?” he asked, as Erik twirled him round and moved them between the other couples who were up dancing now – Alex and Darwin, Janos and Az, Erik’s parents. He looked down at Charles, so happy he couldn’t have wiped the smile from his face for anything, and teased “Well, you haven’t heard me sing. It might have driven you away.”

Charles smiled back up at him and said “Don’t worry. There’s nothing that would have done that.” with such a fond look in his eyes that Erik was pretty much forced to lean down and kiss him again. Charles surged up to meet him, pressing himself up against Erik and making a tiny little wrecked sound in his throat that just meant Erik had to pull him even closer and kiss him deeper. After several enjoyable minutes Charles broke off and rested his forehead against Erik’s chest, gripping Erik’s shirt tightly and panting a little before he said in an urgent whisper “This is all really, really sweet and romantic, Erik, and don’t think for a moment I don’t appreciate it because I do, I really do but god _please_ – we **do** get to have sex at some point, right?”

Before Erik could answer yes – yes, _god_ yes, in as many ways and positions as they could manage before they both collapsed in spent exhaustion – Wanda crashed into them and grabbed onto both of their hands, demanding that they dance with her too because _‘Aunt Emma said you should!’_. Erik sent a poisonous look at Emma, who was sat at a table next to Moira and grinning wickedly at them, but he couldn’t deny his little darling anything so he and Charles spent the next song shuffling around with Wanda standing on their feet and clinging to their legs, while Sean sang them a particularly mocking sounding version of ‘In The Dark’.

Erik groused “Emma did that on purpose, damn it.” as he reached down to steady his daughter, and Charles leaned into him and laughed helplessly into Erik’s chest as he did the same, their hands meeting behind Wanda’s back and holding her into their circle. Charles said “But how can we object to dancing with such a beautiful young lady?” and he sounded amused and frustrated and utterly genuine in a way that melted Erik’s heart, so that he had to press his face against Charles’ hair and tighten the hold he had around Charles’ waist.

Wanda jumped off their feet as the song ended and grinned up at them both and Charles gave her a little half bow that made her laugh. Then she said brightly “You’re making dinner with daddy later, aren’t you Uncle Charles?”

Erik heard Charles give a small gasp at the affectionate title before he said levelly “Am I, my pet? Why do you say that?”

Wanda said earnestly “Well, Auntie Emma said to Moira that you needed to make sure your salad was clean because daddy would be tossing it later, so you’re helping him with dinner, right?” She beamed at them both and added “I’m going to go dance with grandpa now!” before dancing off.

Erik watched her go, open mouthed with shock, and then looked over to mouth _‘I’m going to kill you’_ to Emma before turning back to Charles, who was laughing so hard he was nearly crying, holding onto Erik’s sleeve to keep himself upright.

Erik said with sincerity “Charles, I apologise wholeheartedly for my children, my family and my friends.” He pulled Charles back into his chest and added “If I was a gentleman I’d offer you a chance to back out now that you know the full horror of what you’ve got yourself into.” before leaning down and kissing Charles’ neck just below the ear.

Charles’ breath stuttered as he asked “But you’re not going to give me a chance…?” and Erik rasped low “I’m not that much of a gentleman.” He felt Charles shudder and pulled back to say, rather fervently “You’re mine now, Charles Xavier, and I’m not letting you go unless you ask me to.”

Charles looked back up at him, eyes shining so bright and so blue that Erik couldn’t see anything else and felt almost dizzy, like he was going to fall and be contentedly lost in them. Charles said softly “Erik Lehnsherr, I have no intention of going anywhere.”

It felt like a promise. It felt like a gift and it felt like everything Erik had every wanted.

They leaned into each other again to dance, quiet and hardly moving in the middle of the crowd of their family, with the unspoken pledge held in close to them, beating warm and strong between their clasped hands.


End file.
